I've never been good at this blogging thing. Every time I think I've gotten into a groove, I lose track. Even with my last post, written at the end of November, and posted mid-December. It was written when I was in a bad place. That place got better and better, and maybe that was the problem. The past two-and-a-half months have, in many ways, flown by. In some ways they've crawled. My daughter was born nine days ago. When she was four days old, she got a pacemaker, and I posted this on Facebook:
Today is a big day. I want to thank everyone for their good thoughts, wishes, and prayers for Aria. I'm selfishly asking for more today. She's been in the NICU not because she was born prematurely (at 36 weeks she really just barely qualifies), but because she has an issue with her heart. Objectively, it's not a terrible one. For me, though, and everyone who loves her, it is. In roughly three hours, I'll have to hand her over to the person who will help fix that problem, and it will be the single hardest thing I have ever had to do.
We've known about this for a while, since just before Thanksgiving. Since that time, I have gotten to know, in person and online, some of the most amazing and generous souls. Some of them might read this post. Some I know won't, because we shared just about everything but our names over cups of coffee at four in the morning in the Ronald McDonald family room outside the NICU. I am a better person for having met them. Which makes me feel no small amount of guilt because I have been improved through Aria's misfortune.
But to them, and everyone else, I send a profound thank you. I will update here as much as I can throughout the day. I love you all.