Hunchie was indeed blown up.
Dr. L. added 200 cc's more saline in my already tight back expander.
And in case you were wondering, that is like 200 pounds more to my back.
I remind myself of my neighbor in Utah who lives across the street.
She is 98 years old and valiantly walks to the library almost every day.
She has a hunchie of her own, but it's real.
I came home from the hospital eager to see my children
but instead, when I came home I just cried and went to bed.
I thought about how disappointing I must be to my children.
Oh, how I wanted to pick up Nicholas, get down on the floor with Ollie, and play army men.
I wished I could have jumped on the trampoline with Jane and Claire.
And I have to keep reminding myself that those days will come. Someday.
For now, I sit and tell Nicholas stories about when he was born.
I hold Ollie's hand around the house while he shows me things.
And tonight, I did valentines with the girls.
This will have to do for now.
I can tell my Nies worry about me, and my condition, and most of all, what will happen.
I assure them that my very talented Dr. L and his team will help me enjoy life more fully
and hopefully decrease the amount of tears I shed daily.
Then the questions like come:
"Can you jump on the trampoline?"
"Can you have another baby?"
"Are you going to run again?"
"Will you be able to ride your bike again?"
These are the questions I get asked daily.
This process involves all of us, and I am very well aware of that.
I certainly appreciate your prayers, cards, and packages.
It makes this painful process that much easier. And that means a lot.
