The last couple of days have forced Ahna and I into making decisions and talking about things that we never, in a million years, would have anticipated needing discussed. We have an amazing support system of family and friends, and feel very much held up by everyone’s love.
Despite all of those hard topics and hard decisions, there is one that neither of us seems to be able to make: removing the wrist band from the hospital. We both know that it’s just a flimsy, disposable band that is supposed to be trashed as soon as possible (and probably should have been replaced a few times during our stay at the hospital)…but…they also are the only things that outwardly say “Here is Liam’s Mom” and “Here is Liam’s Dad.” Most people wouldn’t even notice them, but they are still there – visual reminders of who we are.
Sometime soon we are bound to take them off, and as they are removed, so will the last physical reminders of the hospital stay. It’s surprising that something that is so trivial is also so hard, but there are lots of memories that live within the wristbands.