I LOVED SITTING out on the deck early in the morning before the world woke up.
It was quiet, new and fresh with possibilities, and the air clung to my skin, making my steaming cup of coffee taste that much better. Every morning I spent out here, watching the sun rising over the water, felt like a blessing.
Every day felt like a blessing.
I didn’t know if there would ever be a point in my life when that feeling would stop.
Did I really want it to?
Did I want to eventually fade into the rest of existence, unimpressed with life and the ways of the world?
No, I didn’t.
I loved my life and the constant amazement of it all. I would always be that girl who loved taking taxis just for the thrill of it and who never stopped looking at the ocean because it was too beautiful to turn away.
I would always be that woman who had survived.
The sliding door opened behind me, and I smiled, already knowing who it was.
“Look who beat us awake again this morning,” Jude said in that voice he’d adopted ever since the moment he first held her.
His dad voice, I called it. It wasn’t nearly as sexy as the voice he’d use in the bedroom, but it still gave me chills and goose bumps.
I looked up at them, my beautiful family.
Through it all, I would always be theirs.
Jude’s wife and Meara’s mother—nothing could get any better than that.
Having a child in the NICU was something you could never fully prepare for. It was something you could never explain to another who hadn’t experienced it either. Even after coming home from the hospital alone on that first day, we’d Googled and read everything we could, trying to make sure we were up on every piece of equipment she was hooked up to and medication she was on. We’d stayed in touch with doctors around the clock and planned our schedules around hers. Still, nothing could have ever prepared us for the grueling days of waiting for our child to finally come home.
Our family had helped in so many ways. They’d arranged meals, even come and cleaned for us, but nothing could bring Meara home faster. Only time and patience could do that.
We’d ended up seeking out those like us, the ones who were still waiting and those who’d finally made it out. Making friends with parents of preemies was probably the best thing either one of us could have done. It’d opened our world of support and given us people to talk to. They’d completely understood every emotion because they, too, had suffered through them all.
Forty-one days—that was how many days Meara had spent in the NICU. It was forty-one days until we had our celebration day and finally taken her home with us.
It was a day I’d never be able to forget.
I didn’t think I’d slept a single second that night. I’d just lain there, watching her in her bassinet by our bed, amazed and terrified at the same time. I had been so scared she’d somehow stop breathing, and we’d end up back in the hospital.
But she hadn’t, and now, two months later, she was still thriving.
And we were getting ready to say good-bye to our California home.
Our year on the beach had come to an end.
“What are you thinking about?” Jude asked as he and Meara settled in on the chaise next to me.
I turned to kiss each of them, a tiny smooch on Meara’s nose and a lingering long kiss for Jude.
“How much I’m going to miss this view,” I admitted, placing my head on his shoulder.
Meara rested on his chest, and her fingers reached out for a strand of my hair.
“Me, too,” he sighed.
“But I don’t mind New York either,” I said, trying to rally up some encouragement.
“We can introduce Meara to all our favorite restaurants when she gets a bit older,” he offered.
I didn’t respond as my head tried to envision our new life back in our old one. We’d once been happy in the city. We could be again. It would just be a readjustment. Lots of people raised families in big cities. We would, too.
“Hey, I know we still need to pack some things, but I want to take you somewhere this morning. Do you think you could go get ready real quick?” he asked before adding, “I’ll throw in breakfast afterward.”
“Well, only because you’re feeding me,” I said with a grin.
I raced down the hall before taking a quick shower and tossing on a pair of jeans and a blouse. My hair was thrown into a casual bun, and within a few more minutes, I was ready to go. He was already jiggling the keys by the door, and he had Meara in her car seat.
“No chance I can talk you into running by Dunkin’ Donuts beforehand?” I begged, rubbing my grumbling stomach.
“Sorry, no. We have an appointment. And we’re going to be late if we don’t leave now.”
“Well, you could have let me know sooner!” I announced.
We raced down the walkway and into the car. Of course that took time now as well. With a baby, we couldn’t just run out the door like we use to. Diaper bag had to be packed, bottles made . . . it was a lengthy process.