Count von Count

We worked a lot on counting while in the hospital.  We counted the seconds it takes to clean the picc line tube (15), we counted backwards 3-2-1 for Ari's nightly diving routine in his crib, and of course, we counted the days it took until Ari reached remission (40) and until we could go home (47).  (All that practice, yet when Ari counts, it is always the same pattern.  He chants, "two, six, nine, ten!" and then proudly applauds for himself.  Way to go A.)

Now that we're home, I don't want to continue the running cancer count.  I no longer want to think about the number of days we spent on the Oncology floor or the hours we have until we are back in the hospital or the amount of time my innocent son will spend undergoing treatment.  Numbering the days until Ari is cured just reminds me of the overwhelming time and process still ahead of us.  I would much rather return to our old counts - the number of months Ari has been alive (almost 21), the number of weeks I am pregnant (32), the number of years Matt and I have been married (6 1/2), and most importantly, the number of days until my next birthday (253).  Today I resume counting all of the wonder, the blessings, the smiles, the laughs, the poops (2 today...both Ari), and the celebrations in our lives.  And that number may even be too numerous to count.
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Daily update:

Today felt almost normal.  Ari and I played at the park, walked to the fire station, and ate ice cream outside.  Yes, we had two visits from nurses, and okay, I had to call the hospital twice to ask questions, and true, I flushed Ari's picc line (!) and squirted a little oxycodon in his cheek, but as I watched my son joyfully playing all day, I was able to put his illness out of my mind and just enjoy the warm weather and sunny company.

The rest of the week will not be as medically uneventful.  Tomorrow, we have our first visit at the Jimmy Fund Clinic for a check-up with the docs, and Thursday, assuming Ari's counts are all okay, we will go back to the hospital for outpatient surgery (picc line out, port in), but I can now envision how we will adapt to this unexpected hiccup in our lives and make it our new normal. 

It's so good to be home.  I am still scared (I stare at the baby monitor every 5 minutes like I did when Ari was an infant), Ari is definitely a bit confused (what happened to that huge amazing crib? and why aren't his parents sleeping in his room?), and I think we're both a bit lonely (he really loved the nurses, the activities, the kids, and the attention...now he's stuck with me... and I loved spending every day with Matt), but I know in a matter of days we will be back to our old routine.  (And oh yeah, we will be back in the hospital at some point soon for a little stay... just to remind us how good we have it at home.)

I'm off to sleep.  Fingers crossed Ari won't call for me tonight at 11pm, 2am, 4am, and 6am.  I missed sleeping next to him him last night as well, but I hope his old pal Benadryl will help him realize he no longer needs me three feet from his crib.  But of course, if he calls for me, I'm there in a heartbeat.