We find ourselves at the midpoint between Mother's Day and Lincoln's second birthday.
What was it like to be a mother to a child largely confined to intensive care in the hospital? I'm not sure how to describe it. The things that brought me hope would be found terrifying by another parent. I learned a new normal.
My parenting philosophy has long been in line with the AP crowd. Lincoln was brought forth with gentleness and great care- how it tore me to pieces to be unable to cradle him in my arms! But I adapted. We discovered that Lincoln was soothed by fingers running through his hair, which was good since all who came in contact with him did exactly that.
Mothering in the CICU was completely different, and yet it was still the same underneath it all.