As I was clipping away faded rhododendron and peony blossoms in the garden today, I remembered that they were just beginning to bloom when we returned from the hospital three weeks ago. In the same amount of time, the scab on Kai's chest tube incision has fallen off and the incision from the surgery is almost healed. One day, it will be a faint white line. In celebration of the fact that he can now go back into the water, I signed him up for a swimming class.

So, with the blossoms going into the compost heap to nourish next year's garden, I feel like we can start letting go of the residual tension from the surgery. At least in the daytime, when he plays with his friends and reassures us with his new signature phrase, "Don't worry, I'm alright now." Some of the fears still surface at night, but then again he's at the age when many children have night terrors.

Today had a feeling of reentry into the world about it. It was the first time I stopped monitoring Kai's play with other children. Up till now, I still kept a vigilant eye out for runny noses, excessive activity or potential falls. But today, I trusted him completely. He spent several hours running around, kicking balls, riding bikes and feeding chickens with his friend Finnbar this morning. In the evening, he rejoined his friends from daycare for a family picnic. Seeing him run, play and laugh convinced me that he is ready to go back to daycare next week, much sooner than we'd anticipated. We'll see how his energy holds up. The company of friends will be good for him and it will allow us to get back to our own work.

In mid July, Kai has his six-week post surgery appointment with the cardiologist who will check his progress, reassess his need for blood pressure medicine, and give us an idea about Kai's future, i.e. in terms of limitations on physical activity. The other day we got a brochure in the mail informing us that Kai's condition makes him eligible for certain health services. The designation "chronic condition" broke through my shield of denial, reminding me that this is not a discrete, closed chapter. The next letter was a bill that nearly floored me. The cost of Kai's surgery, hospitalization etc is almost as much as my annual salary (with room charges a little less than the cost of the surgery itself)! Thankfully my insurance should cover most, if not all, of it. Another letter arrived in the mail this morning from a nonprofit organization for families affected by congenital heart disease. They provided a list of several families in the Metro Detroit area whose children were born with Kai's particular condition. The organization also hosts an annual picnic, as well as an event to recognize Congenital Heart Defect Awareness Week (Feb 7-14).