A special treat, and being loved to life

Jay went into the hospital this morning and I spent the day on Dom and Cosie detail. We had a fun morning running errands, hanging out and inventing the perfect costume for Dom's latest obsession, Anakin Skywalker. (He has broadened his love for Darth Vader and now wants to play all the sides of the him.) Star Wars has fully invaded my house and even Cosie, who is supposed to be putting herself to sleep, is currently rambling on from her crib, "I don't like Emperor Palpatine..."

Cora had a decent day over at the hospital. There was some question about her lungs having an increased amount of fluid on them so she got a chest X-ray. We will likely hear more about that on rounds tomorrow. But other than that, no drama. We are still planning for surgery Wednesday. There will be labs and tests tomorrow and Tuesday in preparation.

Despite the fact that she seems to have been doing better Cora hasn't shown us her happy self since last Saturday when we arrived. She's not upset per se, just not very smiley or happy. Hopefully that side of her will come back soon.

She did receive a special treat today -- our friend Liz (the same one that did the Escape from Alcatraz race last month) came to give Cora and the other patients a private violin concert. According to Jay, Cora was very intrigued and it sounds like Liz had most of the kids mesmerized. I've had the privilege of hearing her play and can attest that she has that affect.

This afternoon I brought the kids in to see Cora and she lit up when they arrived. They played with her and just wanted to hug and kiss and generally smother her.
Even though their play -- however loving -- is a little rougher than what Cora is used to, I never stop them from doing it. I figure part of the burden of being a third child is that your siblings are often going to try to love you to death. But I think it's good for her. It's like another medicine, and I actually see them loving her to life.

Some of our friends had come in to visit Cora and so we all went over to the playground at Golden Gate Park. It's always so bittersweet to have those "family" moments where we are all together, but knowing that we're not. Not really. It's like we all sort of pretend it's six months ago when Cora was still in my tummy and it really was just the four of us. That's at least how I have to think about it so that I can be happy and just enjoy those moments, and leave my heavy heart aside for a while. I know Cora understands.

Tonight at bedtime Dom started crying, "I want daddy, and Cora, and you, all at the same time." Though it feels lately as if we are rounding one of the final turns, there's still no denying this is an impossible situation.