Back to work today. I'm still feeling a little disjointed and distracted, thinking of the five days we had in the NICU as a family. And my physical state after all the interventions. Swollen, battered, bruised...
I think I got my (3rd or 4th) IV out and was getting discharged. My hand was still swollen like a mitt from where they punctured the vein on the 5th, yet let the bag of fluid run. It took several days to go down again. I remember B helping me shower for the first time, holding me up, supporting me, washing my hair as I cried.
And coming home with empty arms to our house, family camped out on couches. It was Saturday.
Coming home today, I stopped and looked through the bulb garden I planted in the fall while expecting Burke. I wanted to watch the crocus come up, and the early daffodils. I told myself by the time the hyacinths and tulips were up I would be picking them while holding my baby.
It's strange how the little things bring back such strong emotions.
Tomorrow I'm going to pick a bunch of the daffodils that are blooming and bring them in. They deserve to be enjoyed, just as they were intended to be when I planted them. Gardens are Good things, as is watching them grow. Now I play a new waiting game, watching the tulips come and go, then wait for the iris and peonies to bloom. Our new little one will be here before the daylilies and hydrangea tree bloom, if memory serves.