“But I Bought You an Aquarium Pass…”

The words I thought the first time they told us our wolfcub was likely out of options when he was 1 week old.

So what better “give ‘em hell” way to spend the day before returning to St. Louis than to finally take that trip.  We loaded the whole gang up in the car for the first time and took our first (of many to come) family trip to the Aquarium.

So the Fowlington Four were off on our big adventure to see lots of fish in cages.

Our Little Bird touched a starfish which was a big deal since she doesn’t generally like things that feel “icky”.

 

 Rowan slept most of the time, but we did manage to take a few pictures of him with the different sharks.  The shark tunnel is one of my favorite places at the aquarium.  I could sit in there and watch them swim above me all day long.  I’d love to take a nap there. It’s super peaceful. Plus, I kind of like the fact that my hero looks so peaceful with the ominous shadows of Jurassic monsters in the background.

Stuck

I keep waiting for this to get better or easier or something that feels normal.  Rowan might be improving developmentally, but trying to juggle all of his care providers, therapists, actual medical balance, and daily care requirements hasn’t become anything close to easier. 

I’ve come to finally truly begin to understand that this is a permanent change in my life.  I will always be the one who is his primary caregiver who needs to always be on top of everything.  I will always be the one going to 3 appointments a week or managing new nurses and scheduling therapists.  I will always be tracking diet and weight and medicines for Rowan…and he isn’t my only child.

My life as it was before Rowan is truly gone. The only way it will be “normal” again is if everything goes horribly wrong and I lose him. Not worth normal. Not even a little bit.

When I had Evelyn (I was 23) I was determined to not allow “mothering” to become all I was. I love working. I love doing things. I wanted to continue doing that and just bring Evelyn around – adapt here and there of course – but still stick to “me.”  And we did. We went camping in the Rockies last summer, my 18 month and I (20 weeks pregnant).  We create. We learn. We spend time outdoors and on walks and we enrich our lives.

With Rowan, I don’t know how to do that yet. I haven’t figured out how to be me. Maybe I’ll get there one day – but right now – the old me..the old me can’t be a good mom to Rowan. The new me isn’t as good of one to Evelyn. I’m trying to hold out hope that I can make it through the next few years without totally screwing up my children. Or myself.

But “normal” won’t exist for a long time. We’re stuck with change – and for once, I’m having trouble adapting.