A year ago I received a call no parent wants to hear. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was down in LA, about to visit my kids. It was around noon. I was sitting in a hotel parking lot, I wasn't checked in. I sat there, praying for everything to be OK. I remember the challenge in finding a last minute flight home, sitting in the airport noticing the small kids. My heart was broken for Stephanie, who luckily had some family and friends around her. I have a hard time saying it was the worst weekend of my life, although most of it felt that way. I've never felt more alone, waiting to get home, and I never felt more surrounded and supported by friends and family. I've never felt such sadness before or shed as many tears. But that was the weekend that I saw my daughter for the first time, and was able to hold her. How can that make a weekend so horrible? I guess saying that it was a weekend of contrasts and severe emotions would suffice.
I'm sure the next couple days will be hard, the last week has already been.
Stephanie is pregnant again, with less than 2 months to go. We are having a boy who will be named Sullivan Sawyer Keith. He's been incredibly active, which has been a huge blessing, a constant reminder that things are going OK. We have a heart beat monitor, which we can use whenever we want to double check. A couple weeks ago there was a time when Sullivan wasn't as active as normal. We of course both were worried. but a couple minutes later we were listening to his heart beat.
