Dreamers face reality whether they like it or not

Again, not Kenna.  She came out blurry.  Sorry.

Every time we go to visit Kenna, we have to cope with the fact that the nurses and doctors want to assault us with reality.  And I get it, really I do.

All they see when they look at her is one sick baby.

To us, Kenna is so much more.  She's our little fighter.  She the homage to our love.  She's the newest family member, the one that binds us just as much as the rings and the paperwork.  She holds our hearts in her teeny tiny hands.

And it's funny because when we visited her yesterday I was studying her like I always do.  She was a little restless because she had just had an echo.  Any time the doctors mess with her they raise her ire.  I love it.  Kenna has fight and spirit.  She fits right in with the family.

When she finally settled down, I looked at her hands, crossed over her belly.  And her left hand was forming a perfect sign language 'I Love You.'  See, my daughter is highly advanced.  Maybe that's why she had to come out early.

me: Look.  She's saying she loves us.

And Sam came around to my side of the incubator to see her.  He was on the other side trying to monopolize the possibility of seeing her with two eyes.  I don't need to push that, since I will have tons of time to see Kenna's eyes when I'm home with her.  I'll get to stare at them while I'm nursing.  I'll be the first one to see them during nightly feedings.  I have a lot to look forward to.

Ah, but after we finished oooohing and ahhhhhing over our amazing baby, we sat down with yet another doctor.

Like all the rest of them, she wanted to make sure we were firmly rooted in reality.  And like we always do, we assured her we were, but it took some time.  Here's how the conversation started...

doctor: So how do you think Kenna looks?

Is this a quiz?  Is there a right or wrong answer?  Did I miss something?

We told the truth.


Sam: I think she looks a little better every day.

And we had a long long long conversation about where Kenna is and their goals for her.  Yes, my baby has a list of goals to achieve.  The goals are reasonable.  It's not like they want her to do 100 pushups or anything.  Instead they want to wean her off the oxygen.  They want her to tolerate feedings.  (Finally my milk can be put to use.  I haven't been pumping six times a day for nothing.)

Before we left, after she had given her spiel, we gave ours.  I let Sam start it, I just finished it.  It's the same one we give everyone.  We choose to be happy.  We choose to have hope.  We choose to believe that she will have more good days than bad and that she will eventually be home with us.  We are prepared for a long hospital stay.  We are prepared for setbacks.  We are prepared, but we are going to dwell on that.  We're going to revel in her successes.

Did I tell you my baby has two eyes, and that she's off the dopamine, and that she doesn't need to sleep under plastic, and that she is simply amazing to us?

That's what we think about.  That's what we focus on.  And I think Kenna has the right mindset, too.