A different place

My friend Elaine emailed a bunch of us girlfriends from high school a few weeks ago with an idea--the almost impossible thought of eight of us getting together for a weekend getaway in the fall. In her first email she was apologetic, thinking that we'd all be too busy or too budget conscious or not interested in making the trip. But we were all interested, and without much effort we were able to find a weekend in October and pick a city, and flights have already been booked for two nights of girl time and catching up. I'm excited, as the lot of us haven't been together in probably seven years and it will be so much fun to just all be together again.

The only thing that's strange is that we're all in really different places right now, more so than ever before. Some of us are married, some single, some have kids, some don't--we're not even close to being on the same page. I'm hoping it won't matter, that we'll still be able to find stuff to talk about and laugh about and it will be like no time has passed at all.

Speaking of time passing, yesterday was the Hamot NICU reunion at Waldameer. Evan, Grady and I went up for the day, and we met Lisa and her crew there. This was our second reunion, as they are held every three years. Hard to imagine that Ev will be 8 at the next one! But it was a good time--Ev enjoyed playing with Lisa's son Cole in the bouncy castle and at the petting zoo, not to mention riding every kiddy ride at least three times. Ev will never get tired of Waldameer--he's already asked to go back next weekend.

I don't think much about Evan's time in the NICU anymore, not like I used to. But Lisa and I were discussing the experience at the reunion because unless you've had a child in the NICU, you really can't begin to understand what it feels like. She was saying how emotional it was for her, and I was thinking that I was just the opposite--during the time of my illness and Evan's birth, I was completely numb. I was in shock I think, and I just went on autopilot. I did what I had to do, and I tried not to think about what we had gone through, how Evan had to fight to breathe and eat and grow, and what his prematurity meant for our future.

I think Mike had to shoulder a lot during that time--worry for my health, for Evan's, for how he was going to care for us both. I didn't realize most of this until after the fact, just like I don't think I realized how serious the whole situation was until after it was over. I remember opening gifts at Evan's first birthday party, and Jerry had made a donation in Evan's honor to the NICU, and I read that in the card and I lost it. It was such a sweet gesture, and it meant so much to us, and it just made me cry. I cried a little yesterday too, just flooded with all those memories of our NICU stay and how caring the nurses were, and all the things that have happened in the years since. Even though yesterday was a celebration, it still makes me a little teary to think of Evan's first weeks, and how many other families have gone through that same difficult experience.

I'm thankful for the reminder of that time though, no matter if it is painful--it makes me appreciate everything we have now that much more. Mike and I were brought closer together through that experience, and we found out how lucky we were to have friends and family who would help us and hold us up during our darkest days. We appreciate our time with Grady that much more too, knowing that it isn't always this easy, knowing what a blessing we have with both of our boys.