I wish that, at this point, I was excited to plan Flynn’s second birthday party. I wish that I was buried in choices for theme, menu, and party favors. After all, that is my realm. In our world - the world of having a child with special needs, however, a child ages out of early intervention at three. Turning two is the starting line for preparation to enter the school district, timelines, countless life-altering decisions, and paperwork. I am dreading two for everything aside from the typical reasons. I am ready to embrace the "terrible" twos, but I need to catch my breath before venturing into this unplanned, isolating, seemingly uncharted territory. Before becoming Flynn's mom, I thought I had prepared myself in every way that I could aside from caring for an actual child. I read all of the books, articles, and blogs, joined groups, and took classes. Does that actually make you a better parent? I don't believe so. I'm not even sure that it really prepares yo
It is often asked "How many weeks was he?" or "How much did he weigh?" when the topic of my son being premature arises. These answers have become routine, the words flow out of my mouth before my brain can even formulate a sentence; it's almost a reflex. The truth is, however, having a preemie and enduring a NICU stay is anything but routine. That is why we need NICU Awareness Month. I've seen what a two-pound baby looks like. I've seen translucent skin, tinted blue, peering out beneath tangled wires and tubes. I've seen a life stop breathing and a chest rise and fall with the help of a machine. I've seen eyes fused shut. I've seen hands the size of my fingertips, a head that fits in my palm, and a bottom that sits on three of my fingers. I've seen countless needles and heel pricks. I've seen an unbelievably small body under bright lights. I've seen an incubator shrouded with medical professionals day after day, planning the bes