Four years ago today was one of the scariest days of our lives. (It's a three-way tie with the day each of my two preemie children were born.) Rosie was five years old and we knew something was wrong, but we didn't know what. I've written out the whole story already... you can read it HERE. I still can't retell the story of that day without crying.
Every year on this date the events of that day replay in my mind. I'll glance at the clock and think, "yep, this is about the time we got to the doctor's office", or, "we were sitting in the ER by now".
The good news is that, four years later, we've managed to tame this D-monster somewhat. Highs? Lows? Crazy cures proposed by strangers? Yeah, we can deal with those.
We still pray for a cure, but until then, D is just a normal part of our lives now... and we're OK.