A portrait of my daughter every day in 2014
Every time I look at a calendar and see today’s date I feel like I’m forgetting something. Like I have something to do. I stare at the calendar for a minute and finally I remember. There’s a reason 9/23 seems familiar to me, and it probably always will. It’s the day my 4 day old baby was transferred from one hospital to the next. I watched her loaded into a specially equipped NICU ambulance which we followed with baited breath. I think the process of transferring her was one of the most nerve wracking experiences in our entire hospital stay. Watching them unhook, reattach and move her tiny body with less finesse then I would have hoped nearly gave me a heart attack. It was terrifying, but it was also the day someone finally told me my daughter was going to live. Coming to the children’s hospital brought us hope, staff who understood her heart and people who were used to far worse. Gone was the nurse who told me she was “cautiously optimistic ” and we were surrounded by people who were confident and thorough. There were more terrifying days in the coming weeks, and I’m sure there will be again in our future.
Two years ago the idea of this girl becoming who she is today didn’t even enter my mind. But today she is growing right before my eyes, getting smarter each and every day. Maybe some day I will forget what today means, my memories will fade and change and be replaced by new memories. Today it’s still fresh, but some day soon it won’t be.