Day 140

Now that we have a plan in place for going home, impatience is quickly setting in. I can't believe we're about to call the first act of this beautiful nightmare complete. I can't believe it, trust it, or really begin to breathe myself. I feel like we've been climbing mountains for the past five months. Now we've climbed our latest mountain of sand and we will do our best to stay on top until the ground starts changing underneath our feet again.

With each passing day, we see a little bit more of our boy emerging. It's so much easier for him to embrace happiness when it's not interrupted by constant vomiting, raging fevers and the burning of healing scars. He gets a little bit better every day, in all areas, and I couldn't be more thankful.

We'll be back as guests in this same place soon, when he gets the gift of a new heart. But until then, the world is ours.

Progress. It is sure and steady and remarkable. It will be even more remarkable at home.

Hospitals are not true places of healing. They are places of fixing. Of brilliance. Of life-saving miracles. But nobody leaves a hospital healed. While we are feeling grateful beyond belief, none of us feel healed.

Real healing comes when the spirit feels safe. Home is magic. Family and familiarity and routine. Our smells. Our people. Our space.

The theory is that he may do better outside the hospital than in. Freedom, fields, tractor rides, sunshine... It all leads to a sunnier attitude. It all goes into the mix of healing and overall happiness. I think it's a good theory.

This adventure we're on with Holden has mostly been a nightmare up to this point, with a few joyful moments in the middle. But I continue to believe that he can weave this story into something magical.

All eyes are on you to make it the best fairy tale ever imagined, Holden- fight on.