The fight

Gosh this is hard.  I feel like everyday I realize more and more how different my life will be because of what Levi has gone through in this battle.  Just two days ago it dawned on me that Levi is disabled.  Yes, of course I have a wonderfully handy handicap parking placard for him, but it finally struck me that he is actually physically disabled.  And yes, I go to one physical and occupational therapy session after another, but I just didn't get it.  Or want to get it. I recall that after we got discharged from the hospital, I still fully expected Levi to be 100% back to normal, with lots of work of course.  I kept asking his doctors and therapist questions that I only wanted one answer for.  I wanted to hear that yes, of course he would continue to improve and he would be the child you used to have.  I never got those answers I wanted, I got vague hopeful answers but never the answer that I wanted for Levi.  So now, sometimes late at night, when I should be in bed, I look back at those pictures I have of Levi "before" all this.  I look at his hands and feet and his eye and I miss them.  I study them, like they were a loved one that has died.  I wonder to myself if it will always hurt this much to look at these pictures of how Levi once was.  I miss the child that he was, that I wanted to have.  I miss the life that we had.  Trying to balance the fight to continue to heal and recover verses letting go and moving forward is an act I have not yet mastered.  Instead, I fight with Levi and the rest of the family fights too as we all have to keep moving forward, no matter what the outcome is.