Ronan,
Today, I got a phone call from your brothers’ school in the middle of the day. A phone call like that is never good. I picked up and listened as the school nurse informed me that Liam got hurt at recess and I needed to come pick him up because he needed stitches. She sounded a little panicky, which led me to haul ass to the school as quickly as possible.
Once I got there, I checked out the damage, and it didn’t seem too bad. She cleaned out his elbow, and he actually did have a pretty deep football war wound. She told me she was pretty sure he was going to need stitches.
I put Liam in the car and calmed him down. He was pretty freaked out about the stitches part but was trying to act brave while hiding his tears. I told him stitches might not be necessary and that if they were, the doctors have great numbing medicine so he wouldn’t feel a thing.
I called our doctor’s office and was informed they wouldn’t do stitches on an elbow, so we should head down to PCH. Down to PCH we went for our little adventure of the day.
We got a room pretty quickly, and the nurse in charge came in to check out Liam’s elbow. He started asking all sorts of questions like how it happened, whether he was in pain, etc. All the basic questions that are necessary. I stayed out of the answering part because I’m aware your brothers are big enough to speak for themselves, but being the mother hen that I am, I always want to swoop in and answer for them anyway. I let Liam do the talking.
After the formal questions were out of the way, next came the fun ones. “How old are you? What grade are you in? What’s your favorite football team?”
Liam answered them all without skipping a beat.
Then came the question: “Do you have any sisters or brothers?”
Oh God, I thought to myself. How is he going to answer this?
“Yes. I have two brothers and a baby sister on the way.”
I let out a sigh of relief.
The next question came. “How old are your brothers?”
Liam answered, “My twin brother is 9 like me, and my little brother is 4.”
I looked up at Liam because I wasn’t expecting him to answer like that. So nonchalantly. As if it were absolutely true. As if we were just another normal family where you didn’t die from cancer.
“Wow! Three big brothers! Your little sister is one lucky girl!” the nurse said with a big grin on his face.
Liam then said, “I know,” as he shot me a big grin from across the room.
I had been watching his face the entire time and gave him a big smile and a wink. He winked right back at me.
Winking was something you used to do to me all the time. I remember how you mastered it while we were in New York, and you were so proud to show it off whenever you could. That little winking moment with Liam completely made my day. It reminded me so much of you. You were the best little winker.
I swear we’ve been smiling ever since.
I don’t know if it was right or wrong. All I know is it felt like a really beautiful moment that I wasn’t going to let pass me by. Today, I did not feel like swooping in and explaining our real truth while my voice quivered and tears ran down my cheeks. Today, I felt like smiling right back at your sweet brother and going along with our perfect little happy family story — the one that, at one time, was really ours.
Liam ended up not needing stitches. They were able to clean it out, gauze it up, and bandage it really well. It looks like a pretty good war wound. He was most concerned about having to sit out his first baseball game that night. I told him we’d see how he was feeling, but it might be a good idea to rest his arm.
That’s what ended up happening.
Your brothers had their first baseball game last night. I went and sat and watched. Our dear Kassie came with me. Your brothers were so excited she was there. It was a great game, and they ended up winning. I always find myself missing you so much during times like that. I know your brothers do, too.
I had a Poppy checkup yesterday. Everything looks good with her, or according to Dr. Schwartz, “She looks perfect!” I told her I knew — all of my kids always look perfect. It’s the after part, the “does my new baby have cancer” part, that I’m worried about.
We talked a bit about newborn screening. We talked a bit about the date I would prefer for Poppy to make her entrance into the world. She knows how nervous I am and has been so good with me about doing whatever I need to calm down.
She asked me if I would ever do this again — the “have another baby” part. I told her I didn’t think so. Mentally, it has been really hard for me. Let’s just get Poppy here safe and sound. I can hardly wrap my brain around this as it is, let alone thinking about another baby. Yikes. That seems like a lot.
Dr. Schwartz told me she is measuring a week ahead of schedule in height but not in weight, which is a good thing. I’m sure she’s going to be tall and have those long legs of your daddy’s.
We are slowly getting things ready around here. All of this still doesn’t really feel real to me. I know it’s going to take actually having her here for me to fully grasp all of it.
Alright, little man. I need to run.
I miss you.
I love you.
I hope you are safe.
xoxo
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