Lump. Throat. Swallow.

We arrived to Texas last Tuesday afternoon, where we were greeted at the airport by a smiling Adam, one of Manny's best friends from college and who is also Anna's godfather. It was so good to see Manny be in the comfort of old friends... They are the best breed aren't they? No one coffee date, short or long, with a new friend can teach them what our old friends have known about us for years... Sometimes they know more about us than we do ourselves.

Adam's wife, Lindsey, is amazing and was the most gracious of hosts, despite a full house with three beautiful children. All of our kids played together wonderfully and the days were marked with crazy running around but the two nights we had there, we were able to catch up and laugh, sharing couples stories and of course, kid stories. It was so refreshing.

Now that we have been back, I've waited to write... This is a road I have never travelled before... A diagnosis that turns me upside down and inside out, and the emotions I used to so easily stuff down in my throat now come roaring out with little warning. I am somewhat guarded, not wanting to welcome judgement (not that I have felt it), but there's something about putting certain things out there that I may feel one day and have it resolved the next. However, my resolution as of late has been a little slower than I would like.

The hardest night I had in months was that first night in Texas. I was so thankful I was there yet so scared for what Wednesday would bring. I have these moments... Lump in throat moments... I hope they get easier... I have no explanation for what these moments are, other than subtle reminders that I have no idea what my future and what my daughter's holds with Rett Syndrome.

As I was unpacking a few things on Tuesday, I pulled out my "jewelry box" I take when I travel. I say it in quotes because this box is actually a size 1 shoe box that Anna's church shoes came in and I deemed an appropriate size to hold the earrings and bangles and few rings I take when we travel. Adam and Lindsey's little girl, Delaney, the cutest, smartest little girl I've ever met, was with me, asking me questions about the sundress I brought and what earrings I was going to wear with it. "You have beautiful jewelry," she told me. "My mommy has jewelry like this. I love picking it out with her."

Pause.

It was the most innocent (and cute) of conversations, and yet I had to swallow this monstrous ball in my throat and continue on with my evening. By that night, after tossing and turning until 4 in the morning, I crawled up close to Manny, who was also wide awake, and told him my biggest fear in all of this was missing a moment like that -- "Mommy, I love your jewelry. Mommy, can I pick this out with you?"

I felt so insecure as I poured out my wet weeping (and snotty) heart on his shoulder, wondering if these holes in my armor of so-called strength would be the end of me. I asked him ridiculous girl questions like, "Why do you love me?" and "When do you love me most?" and "I've gained 10 pounds in a month, do you think I'm still pretty?" Girlie girl questions that most men roll their eyes at. He of course amused me and took each question like a champ, assuring me that I'm just fine (except when I nag, of course).

It was one more moment I had to get through... This past Saturday, I was covering an assignment that corresponded with a First Communion ceremony with 46 children dressed in their beautiful white dresses and black suits. I watched as the boys came down and thought, "this is going to be Gabe one day soon. How exciting!" and as I panned across the room, my eyes fell on the little girls. And then, another moment came rushing in. Will she walk to her First Communion? How will she eat it? Will she overheat in her white dress? Lump. Throat. Swallow.

This will get easier. It has to.