(Disclaimer: the baby is absolutely fine.)
Medically speaking, something catastrophic happened to someone I love.
I don’t feel it is my place to share the details publicly, but suffice it to say phrases like “ICU” and “ventilator” are not the ones you ever want to associate with people you love.
It is too overwhelming to write about, but also so encompassing I find I can’t write anything in its place, either. So I’ll check back in later, when it is easier to compartmentalize.
Until then, all I can say is if you love someone, make sure you say it. All the time. No matter what else the conversation holds or what else is on your mind.
Because in the moments that teeter between life and death, the moments where you don’t know if hope or despair will come your way, it just might be the only thing that brings any comfort. At least it did for me.
For now, I (and we) will focus on the positive, on the daily progressions and small victories that are in fact momentous. We will focus on the potential for improvement, and focus on what has been spared, not what has been taken away.
But still, in the midst of progress and the slow road to recovery, there is much to grieve.
My heart is heavy.
[Updated to add: heavy yet hopeful.]