I was out to breakfast with Dan and the kids this weekend and one of the servers (who absolutely loves Case) stopped to chat. As she was enjoying Case and high fiving him she asked about his size and it came up that we take him to Pittsburgh Children's hospital often for checkups. She said she goes with her daughter and grandchild who has Autism. The lady said that being at Children's is a great reminder of how good she really has it. Autism is not something her and her daughter had hoped their sweet child would have to deal with but to them it is manageable and could be a lot worse. She reminded me of a night towards the end of Case's stay at the hospital. I was in the cafeteria by myself (Dan and the kids were gone for the week so Dan could work and go to school) and I was feeling sorry for myself. I was tired. Done. I wanted to take my baby and worn c-sectioned body home. During my woe-is-me moment I saw a very ill girl, probably early teen years. She looked close to death as she slouched down in her wheel chair. I looked up to see who was pushing her. I figured whoever it was probably looked a mess. I thought a would see a tired face full of worry and greif. I did not. What I saw was a strong man (I assumed her father) singing. He was singing and smiling. What a humbling experience that was. I kissed Case's sweet face just a few extra times that night and thanked God that all I was dealing with was an "inconvenience".
Here's the sweet boy eating soft candy corn and sporting his new haircut. :)