Allary and Megan going down head-first.
Last time we went here with Paige, she didn't like it too much. She seemed to enjoy it more this time and she was still more cautious than Allary and Megan, but I hope she had a good time.
Even baby Cody was enjoying himself.
I was impressed and quite proud that Allary climbed up and went down the biggest slide in the place.
After that, we all went out to lunch and I brought pink frosted cookies for the girls.
Then, Allary and I went home, had just enough time to watch a little bit of one of her movies, color, and then head off to dance class. Jason had to work late and so it was just Allary and me. In my family, we always got to choose what we wanted for our birthday dinner so I told Allary she could pick whatever she wanted for dinner (within reason) and she chose spaghettio's, oranges, a juice box, and ice cream for dessert.
At bedtime, I laid with her in her bed and told her about when she was born. I told her how excited we were for her arrival and how I had her room and her crib all ready for her to come. I told her it was a little scary when she came because Mommy was hurt and the doctors had to help me. (I'm always careful here to make sure she never feels as though any of it was her fault). I told her how we prayed for her to be alright and how everyone came to see her. I told her about how little and beautiful she was and how I used to rock her to sleep and sing to her. I told her about how I used to feed her with a bottle and give her baths in the kitchen sink (she thought that was very silly.) I told her how much I love her and kissed her goodnight.I left her room and was flooded with emotion. I must have cried for an hour at least. It's hard not to think about everything that happened that day, the wonderful and the terrible, and how terrified I felt. I want to remember the good parts. The part where I got to hold my baby for the first time and the joy that I felt knowing that she was okay. But it's hard not to think about waking up in a weird daze with a machine breathing for me and hearing snippets of conversations about my heart and the possibility of a heart transplant. In one day, I got the best news of my life and the worst... "Allary is okay, she's perfect and healthy and beautiful." and then the blow "You will probably not be able to have any more children." I spent a good deal of time fighting against my diagnosis, doing everything I possibly could to prove to the doctors that they were wrong and I would recover and I didn't need medication and I would work hard to make my heart and body strong enough to have more children. Only to find out nothing I did mattered. No matter how hard I worked or how quickly I recovered, the fact remained that I had a cardiomyopathy and it would most likely happen again with another pregnancy. I am so grateful for my recovery and I know I did beat the odds. I feel like I am doing better emotionally as time goes on. (I still can't believe it's been three years!) I can feel myself slowly and repetitively going through all the emotional stages of grief and loss. But, in a way, I think it's good. I need to feel sad sometimes, and I need to pull myself out of it every time, and every time I pull myself out, I come to new realizations. I have been feeling sad that Allary is already three years old and every day that passes is just more time put between her and her sibling. But on the other hand, every day is one more day I have with just Allary and me. I think Allary and I have a special relationship because we have had so much time together and once another child enters the picture, that will all change to some degree. So, I try to focus on appreciating the time and the special things that she and I get to do together. She is my whole world and I love her so much.
