Letting Go

As silly as it may sound, I am afraid of letting go of the past. Despite the pain and disruption that neonatal and PICU have caused, I am scared of forgetting them and moving on. They are such an important part of our lives and whilst caused unimaginiable hurt, they also made me intensely grateful and changed the way I look at things now. They are so integral to Wriggles' journey and health, how can I just write the experiences off? How can I move on when they can loom so large?

Because things are different now.

Because this:

Is not this:

We spend far less time in hospital now. Far less. It doesn't define us anymore, not all the time. No one automatically assumes Wriggles was premature, not by sight. You can't even see as much of her flat preemie head with her unruly baby hair curling over. 

So why do I still dwell on it?

Why do I sit and think and crave information?

Why do I still feel it as keenly today as I did then?

Why, when I want normality so desperately, do I shy away?

Is it because there are still things that loom, like the oral aversion and the ongoing involvement of a range of health professionals?

Is it because we still end up in hospital with a simple virus?

Is it still having to tell the whole story everytime we go to an appointment or have an admission or a development check?

Is it because as much as I don't want to be, I am still reeling?

Is it all in my mind?

It isn't that I can't enjoy Wriggles in the present. I am and I do. When she pulled herself up holding on white-knuckled with concentration on the full length mirror and kissed her reflection, I nearly burst with pride, hilarity and delight. When she lobs Donkey at my head, I am there in the moment. I just can't put the past to bed and I really, really, really want to.