Gavin turned three yesterday and it was a splendid birthday. We sang to him, ate too many cupcakes, and watched him tear into his presents with so much excitement and joy. No birthday would be complete without a midnight crying session by yours truly. The first birthday was unbearable, the second one was manageable, and the third was tough. I wonder what the fourth will bring. Will it ever get easier? I can't even put into words why I cried except that my heart is still heavy and my wounds, while healing, are still raw.
Part of turning three also means that Gavin aged out of Early Intervention. It's bittersweet. These therapists, bless their hearts, have been with us since Gavin came home from the NICU. And, although it was time to move on, doing so meant new therapists, new teachers, and a new school. I can't say that Gavin was entirely thrilled with the change in his routine but he's adapting and continues to amaze me with his tenacity. At the ripe age of three, this child understands life and its imperfections better than most, myself included. He is utterly amazing.
Until next time,