4.8.15 Forget Tomorrow

It's so easy to worry about tomorrow. When I shift Aimee in my arms so that she is laying across my chest like a small baby, her legs dangling unsupported, I know one of these times will be the last time. How simple it is to leap from this little thought to a dozen related "how will I" unknowns. Tomorrow has worries. 

Forget tomorrow. Today has enough worries of its own. The late night stillness is my special time of day. I sit in bed absentmindedly watching Aimee's monitor beat along with her heart. Hoping for a good night with few alarms. Knowing that today is a good day because she is here breathing, because today I saw her light up with a bright smile when her daddy lay down next to her, because today she laughed when her brother threw a fit, because today I pushed her out to get the mail with a brother on each side grasping onto her chair. Today is a good day. I'll let tomorrow be. 

Update:

Aimee made it back to school last week finally! She was thrilled to be back and has been really talkative on the school days. 

We visited with the sleep pulmonologist this past week. We were finally able to completely read over and digest Aimee's most recent sleep study. It was a little frightening to me. She is having a lot of central apneas now, whereas before it was all obstructive apneas. Now she is having both. The bipap is resolving most of the obstructive, but none of the central. The doctor considered putting her on oxygen during the night, but Ed and I feel like this won't be helpful. If she isn't breathing, or is only having periodic breaths, extra oxygen won't help. The other question is if this is a symptom of changes in her brain. Should we do another sedated brain MRI? Her sleep pulmonologist is consulting with her Neurodevelopmental doctor and her main pulmonologist to decide on the next step.