My baby boy,

I had therapy this morning. I would like to say that’s what took me out today, but I’m not sure. She asked me a bunch of questions to “gauge where my trauma is at”? Frankly, I don’t even know if I’m wording that correctly. The score surprised no one and it didn’t really mean much. She said she just wants to use it as a starting point.

During the session, she asked about that day at the beach and how it made me feel about myself. It was uncomfortable because I haven’t completely visited that subject out loud in a while. I told her how I worried that it was my fault since I wanted to go to the beach and actually got us out of the house on time. If it didn’t happen in water, would it have made a difference?

This also got me replaying the whole thing in my head. After you got pulled out and they started CPR, you randomly gasped twice. It wasn’t right away and they weren’t back to back. I didn’t know what that meant, I never asked, so I asked Teenie. While waiting, I also asked Google and they were nice enough to tell me that it’s a sign of cardiac arrest. I would be a little more content knowing I couldn’t stop it, but just as mad knowing that if we had known, maybe it could have been prevented all together

It’s been an extremely long day, baby. I love you more than anything. Goodnight and sweet dreams.