Still here. Well, back I guess.

So my last post was from the wee hours of May 17. Funny. Before that day was done, I had given birth to my second child. Toby was short and fat, and very sweet.

Life has kind of completely flopped around for us, too. I mean, we knew going into baby #2 that things would be different around here, but I know I had no idea how many things would change so dramatically so quickly.

First, Toby's had a rough start. He was born with cataracts in both eyes, so he was basically blind. Our pediatrician caught it right away, and as soon as we were discharged from the hospital the day after he was born we headed to a surgeon who does neonatal eye surgery for consultation. Before we even headed home, we were scheduled for surgery on his right eye one week later, and his left eye the next week. We had to act right away to prevent damage to his long-term ability to process visual information, which is apparently a huge risk when dealing with eye issues in tiny ones. It has been scary as hell, and exhausting to a level I have never experienced. Overnights in the kids ward at the hospital are absolutely hellish.

Now we are working out a schedule of eye drops that makes my head spin, and he is already in contact lenses so he can have some focus (since he now has no lenses in his eyes). We're exploring glasses in another month or so. And lots of appointments. But Toby can see, and how incredible is that?

Second, Henry suddenly seems so grown up to me. Literally the day after Toby was born and he came to see me I was taken aback by how BIG he is. After holding a tiny baby, a two year old just seems humungous. Changing his diaper is weird, and holding his hand is different. He's also made a seamless transition to a big boy bed, and spent a week with my parents while we dealt with surgeries and recovery. He's like a little man now. It's wonderful and amazing, but it makes me a little sad because he is my special baby, and he's just not my baby anymore. (The hormones make me more than a little sad about this.) He's starting school in a week, and seems so independent suddenly. How I love this boy, and how I need to figure out how to let go a little because all I want to do is cuddle him, and keep him from getting any bigger.

Being a mama is amazing, but it has felt so intense these past few weeks. It's like the experience so far has been practice, and now I'm the MOM with a real kid, and a sick baby, in serious situations that require me to be a grown up, be strong, be brave, not cry, and be a MOM. I have to be tough and fierce and fight for my kids, and I have to make really serious decisions about their lives. I know, I've been doing this for more than two years, but somehow these past three weeks have hit me like a ton of bricks. I'm the mom camping out in the hospital room with her baby. I'm the mom handing the baby over to the doctor for surgery, and I'm the mom the baby is crying for when he wakes up. I'm the mom who suddenly refuses to touch dairy because it makes her baby's insides do scary things. I'm the mom Henry might have missed (I think he was fine) on his first visit overnight away from home, and I'm going to be the mom taking him to school and helping with projects and classroom events and all such things.

Here I am. I'm the mom. Breathe.