I don’t know where to start.

We went to the paed today.

There. That wasn’t so bad. A start.

The paed was lovely, kind, caring. I seriously couldn’t fault him today. He even charmed Maddy, who had come with me to help.

Noah is fantastic. Growing well. Chest is good, the Singulair is working. He is developing well. You would never know he was born at 30 weeks gestation. Happy, contented toddler, dream child. Shook the paed’s hand and was generally the little charmer.

That’s my boy.

Ivy’s bottom, for all intensive purposes, is looking much better. We extended the cycle to 10 days before the blisters came up. The only drawback with this cycle was three tiny blisters on her bottom lip. I thought it was thrush at first but then they puffed out and filled with fluid. Small but definitely blisters. So we have moved on to a new area, it seems.

Her ears and her chest look and sound great. One grommet out, one still in. It looks as though we will be going through with the adenoidectomy sooner, rather than later and a new set of grommets. Bloods and poo samples have come back normal so far, which is good, except when you are looking for a reason. Except when she has the grossest diarrhoea known to the human race.

The best part? She has put on 1 kilo.

In.

Two.

Weeks!!!!

Lordy, I knew that girl was eating but whoa! Slow down Ivy girl or you’ll be on a calorie controlled diet next…

Anyway.

She performed, she danced, both of the toddlers proclaimed undying love for the paed. She walked on hands and feet, buck naked, red and brown toned bottom stuck high in the air… and then she crashed and the roid rager took over. The paed visibly recoiled (ok, so maybe I embellish but he did notice the difference).

So now?

Now we reduce.

We reduce the pred.

We reduce the antibiotics.

We stop the ear drops.

We start to take chances… again.

Here’s the kicker; I’m scared. For her.

It got me to thinking, with all of the other children, I worried about them when they were little and sick, I still worry when they are acutely unwell. I worry about Noah in that same way but I always know they will be okay. In my heart of hearts, I know.

It’s different with Ivy. Sometimes I am worried about her…existence, her being strong enough to weather all this…no, that’s not right either.

I worry that one day she won’t be here.

It’s a different kind of worry and what’s more is I don’t have that sense that everything will be alright and I think that frightens me more than anything. That confidence that she will be okay is just not there and it shakes me.

I have turned this over in my head tonight. I’ve wondered why. Is it because Ivy and Noah came after William died? If that’s it then why is it just Ivy and not the boy, who looked the spitting image of his brother when he was born?

My mum says that Ivy is a fighter, she is strong to go through prem birth and all the illness and still manages to smile. She is right, of course but still I worry differently for her.

Is it some weird mother sense?

I hope not. I hope it’s just a case of the post traumatic crazies.

Because I knew (all be it subconsciously) that Will would not be here, come toddlerhood.