A Merry May

I have been struggling lately with being very homesick - homesick for my family, Amelia, my house, my friends, Tennessee, the weather, my bed...you name it. I don't like to use the blog to complain (I generally call my mom or BJ for that :)), but it hit me the other day that I'm starting to get used to this, which only made me more sad. We use Skype, which is a little challenging with 2 squirmy kids and not the best internet connection, but it helps. BJ is doing his best to keep me updated, but he is a single parent too right now. Like he says, one of the hardest parts of this is being displaced. Yep.

Miss you guys!!

However, we really have not been here that long (6 weeks Tuesday) and don't anticipate being here a whole lot longer. Today is the first day of May - the month I hope we get to come home! I find myself thinking of coming home more and more to the point I feel the need to reign myself back in, not get my hopes too high. This is certainly not over once we get home, but I just know it will be less lonely and easier to handle from home.

I even find I'm already taking his progress for granted! I don't think I could ever forget this experience, but as Thatcher continues to improve I wonder if this will all be a memory one day with our scars as faint reminders...God willing, right?? Thatcher has taught us so much in his first 9 months on this earth, but I certainly don't want his liver transplant to define him. I'm sure he has so much to offer. As he develops, like all babies, I'm getting to know him and his personality. I think more about how this experience affects Thatcher, not just ourselves or "the baby."

It's funny what comments stick with you - some profound, others not, but early on in the process (right after our diagnosis) I was speaking with our pediatrician on the phone and she said, "I don't see why he couldn't climb Mt. Kilamanjaro one day." Ha, over his mother's dead body (I can just hear me asking him if he remembered to pack his medicine), but that hope for the future certainly carries me through most days.

As Thatcher continues to progress - gaining weight, sitting up, scooting and rolling everywhere, pulling his knees under him, I can't help but think every thing is just a little more special with him. He has certainly not had a traditional first year (something else I struggle with at times) but he is certainly not the typical 2nd child either, being overlooked or maybe not celebrating milestones as much. Everything with Thatcher is a milestone! He is just a little miracle. Really, to think they took a part of my liver and put it in him, like a car part, started it up, and it actually worked!! Miraculous.

I guess I have to remind myself sometimes when I'm feeling sorry for us. God has showered us with blessings through this ordeal. He has truly helped us bear this cross. Through the immense support of family and friends and Thatcher's miraculous improvements I am reminded of God's power and mercy. We have come so far. Several things have crossed my path lately reminding me that things could be worse or simply that things were worse and they are now better. There was a time we weren't sure if we would keep our son or what kind of life he would have, nevermind climbing Mt. Kilamanjaro. We still don't know of course, but I find myself dreaming a little bigger for our lives than I once did...HOPE, so important.

In fact, I've started making a list of things I want to do when we get home. I won't share it since it's kind of embarrassing. It's really a to do/shopping list that consists of little things from sewing to running to "wine...lots" but I do think everything will be just a little sweeter once we are home. I'm sure I'll find myself complaining occassionally (I'm human). Thatcher will likely be admitted to the hospital again, especially during this first year, but I'm grateful to the dear Lord for the precious time we have with Thatch and for all he has taught us and will continue to teach us.