... It's been a long time.
So here's the long story, short.
In August, while on a family vacation in Quebec City, Peapod had a horrible accident that resulted in her crushing and severing 3 fingers on her right hand. We were transported to Montreal via ambulance where a gifted surgeon worked 10 hours overnight to re-attach the fingers. After a grueling 3-week hospital stay that involved 2 infections, blood draining by leeches, more than 20 blood draws, throwing up her feeding tube -- twice, forced bed rest, and a second surgery, we were cleared to fly back home. Ahh, but not before I learned that I was pregnant -- in the bathroom of our Ronald McDonald House accommodations, no less. Oh, and my Dad died suddenly of a heart attack.
Yes, for real.
It was a rough time, to say the least. But I can report with gratitude and humility that we received an incredible outpouring of concern, love and support from an enormous group of friends and family. We never felt alone for a minute.
I'm sure you can guess who came through it best of all. Yes, the incredible, unstoppable, patient and wise-beyond-her-years Peapod.
Fast forward to today. Peapod seems to have forgotten all about the hideous event itself. An improbable two out of three of her fingers survived the re-attachment and continue to improve in functionality and growth. Only the tip of her index finger was lost to the ordeal. About this she cares not one bit. She refers to her shortened index finger and remaining scars as her boo-boo fingers and patiently obliges us and her Occupational Therapist in all that we ask of her in her continued recovery. She is truly an inspiration to the Esposo and me.
I wasn't quite as resilliant. However, with some professional help, I have recovered from some symptoms that were diagnosed as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. But I miss my Dad every day. And as my belly swells with the growing bulk of Baby Brother, I wish I could share the news of his new grandson with him in person.
But enough of the sad part.
The real thing to focus on here is the sheer lunacy of the whole situation. I am 40 and knocked up, for god sakes. And just barely no longer insane.
What more could you ask for in a blog? I mean, really.
So hence the lack of postings. But I'm BACK, baby, I'm back!
