Ten days ago, we met Tate. These days have flown as I’m told they will continue to do. Here we are at the end of the first holiday with him as part of our family. We could have gone to see family an hour or so away, but we ended up staying at home. We sat around holding out little boy. We took a quick trip up to the hospital to visit the nurses who kept A and Tate safe for so long. We had a sad little Thanksgiving dinner prepared by yours truly. Chicken, rather than turkey, some mashed potatoes, green beans, and store bought cherry pie. Tate interrupted the eating with a little bit of screaming, but he calmed quickly after getting to join us at the table. It was a truly great Thanksgiving Day. Our list of things to be thankful for is extra-long this year.
The people that were part of Tate’s safe arrival still stick with me more than anything. There are more than I could list, and I still haven't been able to come close to thanking for their kindness and sacrifice. I won’t forget what our families did. I won’t forget the Sawyer’s taking a part of so many of their days to take care of Mags, and Blake’s willingness to give up his own comfort to bring us the saddest news of the stay. I won’t forget Suzanne’s presence in the hardest times. I won’t forget those nurses. The long hospital days are fading away quickly now that Tate is in our arms, but those days changed me more than I even know yet.