For Christmas he and Chevonne had gotten me what she aptly called “the best worst idea ever.” They had purchased for me the on ramp program at CrossFit Norwalk. That and a pair of knee socks that said “bad ass” on them, one calf sleeve in hot pink, and a pair of weightlifting gloves. I was both perplexed and intimidated.
I struggle a lot with my blog. I only have one mode of writing and that is from the heart. Some of the things I want to write about would be too raw and too exposing for my children, so rather than curate posts I choose not to write. I have also left many references to my former husband because those too came from the truth. I was that woman, then. I can’t erase her or pretend she wasn’t who she was. I do not edit my past, I am proud of all of it regardless of the outcome. Without her I could not be me.
As soon as I am quiet, sitting with Oscar, letting the din of the NICU wash over both of us the overwhelming feeling I get is one of gratitude. I got him. He’s here. He made it. Could I be any luckier? People who don’t know the story so well might not see it that way. They might think “how terrible to be going through all that.” And yeah, it sucks a lot.
