The I-94 Corridor

I-94...between St. Paul and Minneapolis.  A road that I have traveled-many, many times.  But, yesterday we went to the holiday display at Macys and the Holidazzle parade.  Which meant that we took that road. It was the first time that I had traveled that way since my boys have been home.  And, I can't lie, once that realization kicked in I became slightly teary-eyed.  And it took me back.  The babes have been home for six weeks, which really isn't that long, but our time at Minneapolis Childrens seems like a lifetime ago. We ended up in Minneapolis because my doctors work out of Abbott, not United.  We never would have choose to go to Minneapolis.  We are St. Paulites....yes that is a phrase....we had planned on being at United or Regions, but I truly believe that fate brought us over there.  And so when we were offered the chance to transfer the babies over to St. Paul Childrens we politely (but fiercely) declined.  Minneapolis was our hospital, you don't walk away from the people who have known your babies for their short, event-filled lives unless you have to.  We kept them there because we knew that was what was best for them.  But, that doesn't mean that I didn't grow to hate that stretch of highway between the two cities. Now, I realize hate is a strong word-I choose it purposefully.  Because, I hated driving there and back.  I was almost always alone.  And always driving away from people I love and wanted to be with.  And driving was a necessity but I just wanted to get to my destination.  Whether I was driving to the hospital or going home...I just wanted to be there.  And since I was almost always alone it left me to be in my own brain.  Whew.....scary shit happens in there. And I almost always cried.  Maybe just a few tears or a full-blown sob fest.  But, I cried.  I cried every time I left the parking lot of the hospital. I cried because time slowed down and I could think about what was behind us or I could think about what was in front of us.  I cried for my babies, for me, my kids, Joe.......it sucked.

I always hoped that I would have one of those wonderful, soul-cleansing cries-for me they used to always happen in the shower.  A boy dumped me....cry it out in the shower and move on.  Fail a test.....cry it out and get over it.  But, this was so different.  There was no moving on or getting over it.  I couldn't completely lose my mind. I had to stay pulled together and clear-headed.  There were too many things to worry about, monitor, take care of . But, in the car I had nothing else to do.  I don't text, I try not to talk on the phone.  All I could do is drive and listen to music....and think.  It was in those rare moments when my brain went to the place I had mostly forbidden to go.  The bad, what-ifs place.  The place where I stored all my worries and concerns and over-reactions. 

But, I didn't just cry about sad, bad things.  I cried many tears of joy down that road.  Tears of joy that I was simply able to drive to my babies.  Joy that I would be able to touch them, hold them when I got there.  Because as bad as it was for us....there were so many facing much worse.  Tears of relief when they would hit a milestone or pass a test.  There is a song "Good Life" by One Republic, that became my anthem.  Were we in a hard situation? Absolutely.  But, there was so much good to be recognized.  My boys were there, they survived, they were progressing...slowly, but steadily.  I was lucky enough to have option of being there every day.  I have a husband who supported me in every possible way he was capable of.  I have an employer who wants me back, but when I was mentally and emotionally and physically ready to be back, not because a certain amount of time had passed. I had a vehicle to drive there.  We had money to park and eat and all the other odd things that come up in that type of situation.  We had great childcare and an endless list of people willing to take the girls...just to help.  We have a huge network of family and friends who loved and supported us.  I mean it literally makes me ache a little bit when I think of all the love that I felt, all the prayers, all the good thoughts that came our way through this.  I met alot of people who didn't have half that list.  Who didn't drive or have a car.  People who didn't have family or friends.  Moms who had to go back to work before they were ready.  Babies who didn't have any family around them.  All I had to do was focus on my little men.  That is called being blessed. 

I don't think that I will ever be able to drive down 94 and not get emotional.  I know that as time passes the emotions will dull.  But, they will always be there- as a reminder of the good life I have and just how wonderfully lucky I am to live the life I have.