I want it to be Tuesday

I am toodling around the Internet again, searching for something that doesn't exsist. I want a mother's necklace, but I don't know what kind. I have two- one with four little charms on it, 3 boys anda  girl, their bellies bearing the birthstones of my children. I have a silver necklace with a mother holding her baby inside a larger heart. I wanted just the small charm of the mother and child- the big heart isn't really me- but Adam couldn't find just the charm. I could, on the net, but he got my present at the last minute. Silly man!

I want something that clearly shows us, our lovely four children, and the cause dear to us, prematurity. I see lots of little hand crafted disks with tiny feet on them- perfect if Georgie had been a traditional preemie or micropreemie. But he wasn't. He was big and his main problem was his lungs. "Tiny" doesn't really define our preemie jounrey.

I don't want a puple charm or awareness ribbion.

There's no one quote or Bible verse that describes us. The only one I can think of is from the Magnificant- My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord- and that seems to belong to Cole more than all of us.

I want something that, on closer inspection, reveals how our lives have been touched and changed by 9 days in the NICU.

And then I realized why, now, I am Googling. Why, now, I am flipping through Etsy.

You see, I want it to be Tuesday. The week hinges on Tuesday. On Tuesday, Georgie has an eye exam with a dr who works with preemies. It's not on purpose that he is seeing a preemie doctor. At the practice I go to, the only drs who see the kids under school age are also the ones who work with preemies.

I'm worried.

I'm worried that they will find something wrong with his eyes, that my sweet tot's green eyes will be covered with glasses, even though I think littles in glasses are adorable. I'm worried that something went wrong in the hospital, that his vent settings were too high, or wrong, and his eyes have been damaged. I'm worried that we missed something, some cue, that we should have picked up on sooner.

Logically, I know he was on a vent for a short amount of time. I know his oxygen settings were low and he was only on them for a week. I know normal, average preemies of 35 gestation don't normally have problems with their eyes. I know that any problem HE may have is genetic and has nothing to do with his little "Hey! I should come 5 weeks early!" stunt.

I don't think of Georgie as a preemie anymore. The "35 weeks" has become an after thought, part of him but not defining him. It's his birth story, not his life story. It changed us forever and I firmly believe it gave us Cole and it will forever be a defining moment in our lives. Yet, it just... is.

I look at his long lashes, clear green blue eyes and ruffle his blond hair. I look at him carefully and wonder what he sees. Can he see? When he stands close to the TV, is he trying to see the screen or does he really think he can touch Perry if he gets close enough? Can he see the WotWots or does he just recongize the music? Does he just want to be carried down the stairs or does he really fear falling? Can he see the pages of the books or is he just being independent and wants to read them on his own?

Snow and ice are coming to our area. I'm worried that it will cancel Tuesday's appointment and I will have to wait longer for answers.

I want it to be Tuesday. I want to know if my Puddin can see, what he sees. I want the stress, the worry, the anxiety to go away.

I want it to be Tuesday.

I want to know.