Good days, and yet…

Another great day and yet I still hold my breath. Fearful of what the dr might do if we share the good news. She is more alert and playful every day. Even clapped two blocks together, one step closer to the milestone marker for 9 months. One month behind doesn’t sound too bad.

What if Nuero reads that as a sign it is time to up the dose? Fearful this is temporary and that we are only getting our hopes up… That it will hurt more this second time if we lose her to the fog, again. Most fearful she doesn’t build back as she has slowly, even loses the fight in her.

It hurts to breath thinking about it.

But I must because we are trying to plan ahead, be prepared for the next change to have a faster way to respond and adjust. And yet, it seems so hard to know and even wrong to let myself think of what could be worse.

Short breaths. Slow breaths. And then I will hold it in again

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