Seasons

It is indeed the season of giving thanks, waiting and rejoicing.

We started the holiday with a party with our Down syndrome group.  It was a small, sweet dinner with fun crafts for the kids.  Our guys got really into making "Oreo turkeys" while Ellie crawled around socializing :).

Talking about seasons reminds me of the "seasons of life".  I've found there are so many seasons in family life in particular and some seem like they will never end.  But they do end.

The hospital just created this wonderful resource for families to follow the care their child is receiving. I signed up to watch where we are with the feeding program admission and was surprised to see this neatly organized listing of all of Ellie's admissions.  I've always "memorized" her dates she was there by things like "the week before Jacob's first communion", or "we came home for one night for Jacob's 8th birthday", or the ever-so-scary "she was breathing rappidly at Fudrucker's for Labor Day and we knew we had to go back in" and lastly, "we got to leave the hospital on Mardi Gras the day before Lent began".  But now the actual dates are all laid out for us to see with our eyes, not just our minds.

Looking at it reminds me of some kind of flight log, like trips we took.  Arriving to and departing from this foreign country we'd never even known before.  Our stays were six nights, 15 nights, 21 nights and three nights.  Oh, and one unforgettable night in the ER that I remember as "three days after we moved into our new house".

There was so much that happened during these dates that are listed in black and white on a computer screen.  They look like a bunch of numbers but hold behind them the sacred events that started this blog in the first place (first post was September 12th!).

On another page you see the list of services your child has received.  When I got to this page I was suddenly reminded of the September 6th admission where she was looking so serious, we got assigned this special team of people (the third service down):

This wonderful team of people we were assigned that day is meant to provide that extra layer of support for the family.  They were three amazing individuals and would always ask things like "how did the boys do in the golf tournament this weekend?" and "how is school with the grandparents going?"  But when we were told we were getting a group called "palliative care" assigned to us, I took off my shoes and climbed over the rail into her crib and practically laid on top of her.  Excuse me while I fetch myself a tissue.  This same group of three folks stopped by during her February heart surgery admission to celebrate how well she was doing and we said goodbye.  

I don't think I'll ever forget some of the details of Ellie's days in the hospital, but it's neat to see it documented like this.  What a season that was.  It did indeed end.  Now it is a new season.  A season of Ellie starting to walk, hopefully starting to eat soon, and of her trading in her hospital gown for adorable Scottish Terriers.

Let us find ways to be thankful during all of life's seasons.