It feels so good to be home.

My bed is softer than I remember, Tillie is sweeter than ever, my angel in-laws take care of more than anything I could need, and Dave and I are finally back together.  I feel like I’m just trying to catch my breath as I feel so grateful to be back.

But funny as it sounds, I am finding that my definition of home has broadened from what it used to be, and I like it.

There is now a piece of home back at the Yale Hospital, floor 10. I miss my friend who cleaned my room, my dear friend the chaplain, my friend who did my vitals, my friend who checked my fridge temp (I'm not exaggerating, these people were amazing). I miss my nurses and feel like they have become like sisters. Monitoring my daughters, day in and day out, was a service that I will forever be grateful for. But even more than that, they looked after my heart.

There is also a piece of home at Yale Hospital on the 4th floor in the NICU. Although my two daughters had to stay behind, it feels like home when I visit them and feel their tiny hands hold tight to the end of my finger. They are growing and doing so well and I’m so grateful for each day that they progress.

There is a piece of my home that left when my sister Sarah had to fly home. Boy do we love her. Her name is often the first Tillie says when she wakes up.

There are also pieces of home all over in so many of you that have served our family over the past 2 months, and that sent us love through letters, visits, texts, packages, prayers, and meals. You truly gave of your hearts to us.

Who knew that this experience would help me feel more love than ever before, and widen my circle of home in ways that I will forever be grateful for!

Home really is where the heart is, and lucky for me right now, that seems to be a little bit of everywhere. 



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