We went to church today for the first time in months. We’d been quarantined, so afraid of catching a virus that we would pass to Kit, since she was coming home any day now (we believed it more so than even the doctors). Then Kit crashed and we know now that she won’t come home, not until she survives surgery and months after, when she’s recovered. So we can come back out now. I’ve not been anywhere aside from the hospital and it amazes me how many people there are. So many people! And singing altogether in church, our voices raised. It was very strange…to be out like we are a family not missing our baby, like we are complete (we look complete) and we aren’t. I didn’t cry though. I told her medical story and all about the changes, and we scooped up our children and took them home. During the community prayer, our leader described this time in our lives (they pray for Kit weekly) with Kit in the hospital like a sort of prolonged terror and yes, those are the words for it. Prolonged terror.