After the credits have rolled

Our big outing today was to the pediatrician's office, where we will be visiting once a week from here on out. The good news is that Cora has gained weight since being home. She's a regular chunk now, weighing in at 10 pounds, 6 ounces. It was somehow very gratifying to know that she'd gained so well on our watch. It also kind of confirmed what we already know, which is that she's going to do much better overall being here with us.

We had a couple of episodes overnight and into the early morning that scared me. Just more of the same: Cora not being able to breathe well, me suctioning out her nose and mouth with the hospital-grade vacuum, her getting worked up, turning dusky and sweaty, taking a while to recover, and needing more oxygen. Those are the moments when I feel that I'm really in over my head.

But then she spent the whole day today reassuring me that everything will be okay. Dominic and Cosie went to Grammie and Papa's today, and Jay went to work, so it was just me and Cora Shabora sidekicking around. She was so content all day. Just the most peaceful, most grateful little child that ever lived. I was working some from the couch and she was kicking away on her little baby playmat. Then I put her in a bouncy seat in the bathroom so I could shower (a signature Mom move) and she was smiling when I got in, and smiling when I got out. So delighted to see me and just to be experiencing this normal life.

She definitely had a few additional lows today, but all in all, I truly felt like she was trying to tell me that she's happy to be here.

There is a funny phenomenon that happens, I've noticed, since I've started writing this blog. There will be a moment, a priceless moment, a moment from literature, a frozen time moment. I'll witness it, and I'll think, I should write about this tonight in my blog. It was perfect! It was beautiful! And then, the moment I think that, one child, or all three children, fall to pieces, and it becomes a spectacular circus act of chaos and a demonstration of poor parenting techniques.

Tonight it was when we were, all the five of us, in the kitchen eating dinner. Just for that one perfect moment everyone was happy. Cosie was in her high chair, yammering on about a princess movie, Dominic was peacefully eating his food and laughing, and Cora was in her bouncy seat, so delighted to be part of the dinner conversation. I looked around, and there it all was. Everything in the world to be grateful for, right in one kitchen. Each and every person, perfect.

Then I had a my moment of reflecting on it and wanting to write about it, to share the magic.

That was the moment when Dominic laid down on the bench, put his stinky feet on the table and started pushing around his dinner with his socked toe. I reprimanded him; he laughed. I told him to go to his room; he said no. The episode resulted in me dragging him by one arm into his room (while he was laughing and I was furious), Cosie exusing herself from the dinner table in order to scream, "I want a snaaaaack!," and Cora projectile vomiting from her chair.

Dinner was over.

I thought for a moment about not writing about any of it, because it just turned into such a profound cluster. But the reality is that, that is almost always how it is. Two slices of beauty and boundless love, sandwiched between a side of frustration at pushed limits, too much whining, and irrational rage in light of an actual situation. But then there's always another beautiful moment. Those are the ones that get you through.

It's true, since having Cora home from the hospital, life has gone on. We don't (unfortunately) just sit around all day praying, thanking god, and toasting each other for being awesome. We're just living what comes after the end credits. There is always laundry, there is always whining, there seems always to be more upon more throw up. Yes, all those realities are with us. But it is also deeply wonderful, and everything I had hoped for, all at the same time.

Tonight while I was folding laundry in the other room, Dom and Cosie were in the bath chatting nonstop, toddler laughter rolling out into the hallway. I sat in Cosie's room folding laundry, with Cora lying on the floor next to me. Every time I would look over from the laundry, I saw that Cora was staring at me. She never stopped looking at me. And every time I would catch her eye she would grin. A really big, chin dimple grin.

Her eyes were really saying, "I'm so happy I'm here!" And I don't know why, but I felt like they were also saying, "thank you."