Today was the NICU reunion. We debated going, not going, and going. SailorBoy was all for going, but I had to battle with my depression/sick feelings all week, and kept thinking about how I was going to feel (shitty), how best to make it through (take lots of chilled water and wear sea-bands), and what would be the best time of day to do this (as early as possible).

Munchkin had a great time. She slept a lot, and looked absolutely adorable in her little daisy hat. The sun was pretty hot; I'm so glad that we've got AC in the apartment, because I knew that all I had to do was to make it home and everyone would be alright. There were hot dogs, and hamburgers, and nachos... I tried to stick with stuff that I knew would sit better in my tummy, but I ended up puking my guts out. Again. Still, a good time was had by all. This year the hospital started a footprint/handprint wall. Everyone was able to go upstairs to the NICU unit, and along the wall we wrote her name and birthdate, and put her two little footprints up there in pink paint. The head of the unit made a speech about how while it's nice to come back every year and see the families and former preemies doing so well, we should also think of all the parents upstairs right now, visiting their own babies, and know that it's good for them to know that we have reunions every year. It gives them some hope, in dark days, to see that yes, these children do thrive outside of the darkened NICU rooms. They grow big and strong and stubborn; and they smear baked beans across their faces and beg for one more bite of hot dog. They laugh and blow bubbles in the sunlight, and run screaming in delight across the courtyard that has seen so many parent's pain over the years.

This is where you started, my darling baby girl. This is where I birthed you in fear, and visited you daily for weeks. The day we brought you home was one of the scariest and one of the happiest of my life, all at once.

Pray to god I never have to sit through this again with you.