Perspective, and who knew about Scorpios?

I am not one to place any stake in astrology, and before about two hours ago I could not have told you Cora's sign, but it turns out she is a Scorpio. I know that because a friend sent me a webpage about Scorpios. It describes Cora so perfectly that I have to share a line from it:

"Scorpio's Life Pursuit: To survive against all opposition. Reputed to be the most powerful sign of the zodiac; Scorpios lead fate filled lives and...many astrologers call this the sign of the oldest souls."

So there you have it. Now I am obviously a believer in astrology.

It was another successful day for Cora. Probably not quite as amazing as the day before, but still a solid day in the right direction. The biggest event from today was that Cora got to try taking a little bit of milk from a bottle. She has been fed through her tube since December 28th. Naturally, because she is a very clever little girl, Cora didn't miss a beat. Granted, she was only allowed to try drinking about 1/3 of an ounce, but she remembered the complicated coordination of things -- suck, swallow, breathe, and repeat. Very impressive.

She did then promptly give everything she had just drank right back to the Occupational Therapist about three minutes later, but that's not her fault. It really was amazing that she hadn't forgotten how to eat after so long taking nothing by mouth.

Other than that, she is almost fully transitioned over to her oral heart medications at this point and just has one IV medication left. I believe she now takes 13 medications in total. I can't help but laugh at how my perspective has changed. I remember when Cosette had a VSD and had to take one heart medication and one vitamin supplement, and I thought the world would end. Things that would have been unimaginable in my old life are now just barely footnotes.

I was looking through some pictures tonight on my phone and of course there are many taken throughout Cora's journey. Some of the pictures literally shock me. I remember taking these pictures at the time and saying to Jason, "doesn't she look adorable in this one?" And he would give me this crazy look like, you are going to scare the crap out of people if you post that picture. At the time, I didn't think it was scary. I just thought it was what Cora looked like that day, and despite whatever shocking apparatus she had or no matter how pale or terrible she looked, I only saw her.

But as I have some small amount of distance between now and the really dark days (which, in and of itself is of course a matter of perspective) I can look at the pictures, taken on various bad days, and be stunned. How in the world did we walk through that? And even as I have that thought this evening, sitting more or less in a place of having escaped -- for the moment -- yet one more of Cora's walks on the tightrope, I know that one day I will look at a day like today, and ask again, How in the world did I get through that? Life is always scarier from any other vantage point than, right now.

The answer to the question of how we get through this is that we live our life trying to stay in the day. And in the day, it's just Cora. It's not the sad memory that we almost lost her five specific times (with the lingering possibility of losing her on any other day in between), and it's not the anxious fearfulness about whether her recent improvement is for good, or about how we will treat her complex cardiac issues, or about what her future, in light of her genetic disease as well as her heart disease, holds.

Removing all the boogeymen; removing all the fear. It's just Cora.