I want to stop crying

Wow, it's been a long time since I've been here. I've realized I can only write when I get to complete understanding in my brain yet still have a therapeutic reason for writing. It's been more than a year since I've been able to discuss, with myself, let alone write, all the horrors, beauties, realizations, and truths as to life really is. I tend to ignore as long as possible. I am pretty passive-aggressive. Many see this as a fault but I don't. Believe me, if I said everything on my mind when I thought it, people would hate me. Or commend me on my honesty. I don't know. Either way, I guess it's besides the point.
Two winters ago, the hubby and I planned on packing our life up and moving west. It seemed great. Come February, BOOM! Baby on the way! About to give our move-out notice to the landlord, we decided to stay for a year and regroup. What a fucking year this has been!
As anyone who knows me knows, my husband almost died. Two weeks in ICU, 9 weeks in the hospital all together, it was every expectant mother/wife's worst nightmare. My wonderful innocent son is the only thing that kept me going. Honestly. I truly thought my husband was going to die and I was going to lose my baby from the stress and my "future/almost real" family of me, the Dylans, and the baby was not going to be. I didn't let myself think, I went through the motions. People sometimes that I'm strong; I'm not. I did what anyone else with a 4 year old and a growing baby would do- survival mode. My mother saved us, she practically lived at our house the entire time. She's an angel.
It is completely unimaginable thinking your spouse is going to die. Just out of the blue? BAM! "what's for dinner tonight honey?" BAM! "we have your husband in our ER complaining of abdominal pain" WHAT?? Then "we're keeping him overnight" to BAM! "we transferred him to ICU during the night" WHAT??? Then the next day " he's in so much pain we need to knock him out and incubate him so he can try to recover" WHAT THE FUCK?!?
After that it got worse. "his kidneys are failing." "his pancreas is necrotizing." "were going to pull the tube out of his throat and hopefully he can breathe on his own" God that was the worst. Just out of the blue. Pulmonologist walks in and looks at the chart, "I think he's ready, we're going to remove the tube". WTF!!! My sister-in-law and i sat there together in panic, praying this person we both loved so much would breathe when they took that tube out of his throat. The dr instructed us to remind him to breathe and help him and left the room. Really?? Luckily he did. Try talking down someone whos been on a breathing machine unconscious for a week waking up terrified. Yep, good times. hushed arguments between doctors and hospital superiors. The kindness of the nurses. The sad looks they give you as they look at your stomach holding your unborn son. The terror you feel every single morning, waiting til you get a nurse on the phone to make sure yur husband made it through the night. The constant grasp on your phone, just waiting for horrible news, or at best, good news from a doctor. The happy smile you have to keep on your face at all times, because youre a mother dammit and your 4 year old son who loves his father more than life itself is probably more terrified than you are. And even if hes not, you're still the parent. You NEED to be strong, since you're not only strong for yourself anymore.
Do you know what it's like to be terrified every waking moment for9 weeks that the love of your life is going to die? 9 weeks. 67 days. It's not that long in the grand scheme of things. But when you are terrified every hour, every minute, every freaking second that they will die,it is as long as eternity. It is a nightmare and you are living it.  And all you can do is keep going. Keep swimming.
Hold on and survive because you HAVE TO. Because the two of you have created the most perfect child ever and he needs you. And so does the unborn child still growing in your belly, despite all the stress, he's still in there hanging on, like the rest of the family. Talk about a fucking family bond.

Packing up and actually going

Many years ago, my husband and I decided to pack up and go. Move south, move west, just move the hell out of New England and its unrelenting winters and taxes. Then immediately I got pregnant and he got very,very sick. We spent at least a year unable to work and destitute (thanks so much to our parents who kept us afloat financially and everyone who kept us from drowning spiritually). 

It's been a few years now. Gone is the terrifying, very possible reality that my husband could die if we move away from his doctors. (Mostly) gone are the crippling hospital bills that could've paid for an entire house. So what's left? A family with dreams of something better yet to come, a better understanding of reality, and a shit ton of appreciation that life is just too damn short. 

My heart aches with this decision. A decision we made so many years ago and life got in the way. In the meantime what happened here in CT makes it so much harder to leave, so gives just as many reasons to go. 

Life is short. New England, with all its seasons and beauty- it sucks. It's too cold at least half the year. People are cold. People are mean. And they are bad drivers. 

It's so very hard thinking about the next year or so still in CT. I feel like I should do as much as I can, spend as much time with people as I can. My heart is already in Tennessee.  But such a huge part will always be home.