Going to Baltimore
The ambulance showed up about an hour late. I had concerns, but they weren't important because I knew I wasn't in charge of getting us from pt A to B. 4 adults stood on my front porch and it was a surprise to see everyone there. We met them in the garage and there was immediate confusion. We didn't know another car was coming (I was having trouble piecing together details) and the people in front of me were confusing things. 2 drove the ambulance, another 2 were EMT's and it was "over the top" considering the small, calm child next to me. He is excited that something has happened (he loves when people come over). Grant was not hurt and didn't need an ambulance, but this is what came with the air travel we had chosen. He had to sit on the stretcher of the ambulance and we asked him which adult he preferred. I was picked.
Eventually we figured out there was a car coming for Scott and he got a nice ride with a chauffeur to the St Paul airport. We were stuck in morning rush hour. It put us further behind. I nearly told my life story to 2 very nice men from Tampa (the EMT's). Grant became restless when we fully stopped on 394. He started to kick and hit me. No coping skills. Evidence we needed help. Just in case I would forget.
We finally arrive to St Paul and take a quick bathroom break. We jump in the smallest plane I have ever seen. There is room for about 5 adults and 1 person that might lie down if in distress. Grant sits with dad for the majority of the trip. It's short. 2.5 hours. He chats with me and eventually wants to sit with me. I try to comfort him. First plane, then bus (ambulance), and then new school. I can hardly tell him. Every time I try to share, my throat tightens and tears easily form. How the hell am I supposed to do this with grace?
The plane ride was easy. We even did a bolus feed. We get in another ambulance and this airport looks like the one we just saw. It's grey and dreary. The weather matches our moods. Grant chooses me again for the Baltimore ambulance ride. We get new drivers and shake a lot of hands as we head into the city.
I can't see anything. I am on the stretcher and facing backwards looking out a small square window. I am forced to really tell him the schedule now. I repeat myself many times. "Grant, when we get there you will need to meet your new teachers, new friends and mommy/daddy have a meeting". "No meeting" he replies. I tell hime "I know honey. I have to go to my meeting. You will be fine. I will see you later. I love you so much". Tears run down my face. I can't breathe. My chest tightens. It's like death. It doesn't feel temporary. it feels wrong.
The door opens. We have arrived. This has to happen now.
