Today was my last day home with Sutton before I got back to work on Monday. I couldn't get over the 'lasts' all day. Last time to pick him up in the morning, knowing I'll get to see that smiling face all day. Last time I'll take him upstairs for storytime and to change out of his pjs. Last time I'll cook lunch while simultaneously trying to keep him entertained.
I know it's not really the LAST time I'll do these things, but this is the end of my all-day, every-day time with Sutton. I cried. ALOT. He couldn't coo or giggle or squeal without me tearing up and having to pick him up and squeeze him.
Then, right before lunch, I got some devasting news. I called my OBGYN's office to confirm that my paperwork for my return to work had been faxed and was informed that Dr Kittrell had passed away. My heart dropped. I was, and am still, so upset about it. This is the man who delivered our son just a few weeks before he passed away. I saw him for my 6-week post-delivery check-up less than two weeks before he passed away. It was very sudden and unexpected. His office staff was audibly upset on the phone while we were speaking. Logically, I don't see why I should be so upset, but this is the person who helped bring our son into the world. I complained about his office quite a bit, but I loved him as a Dr and was of the mind that he would most likely be delivering the children we will have in the years to come.
Today has been so hard. I want to weekend to last forever and am still hoping for a Hail Mary that will let me stay home with Sutton. It hasn't hit me that Monday morning, I'll drop him off at the Nanny's and be away from him all day. I can't even comprehend that.
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