1.... 2.... 3....

I watched silently as the numbers in front of me lit up, one by one, our floor growing nearer with each passing moment. The butterflies in my stomach fluttering stronger than ever, my palms sweaty, my nerves frazzled. I felt Aj's strong had slide into mine as the number 5 lit up, and then 6...

I couldn't help but stare at my beautiful husband, standing there in the elevator beside me. His button down dress shirt and tie still smelled of laundry detergent. His khakis were neatly pressed and his tattoos were well hidden beneath his clothing. He looked so different to me then... so grown up. It was strange seeing him that way. Strange because for so long I refused to think of Aj or myself as 'grown ups'. We'd always been so young at heart, so carefree, so fun. We were that couple that everyone wanted to be like. The couple known as the 'life of the party'. The couple everyone wanted to hang out with. And yet... here we were now, all grown up with a child of our own. A responsibility so bewildering to me that I still sometimes had to stop and ask myself what God was thinking trusting two crazy kids like us with a little bitty baby like Matthew.

But he had. He most certainly had.

And so, here we were. All grown up... and hopefully doing a good job at the whole parenting thing. I watched as the elevator quickly approached the 7th floor, dinging quietly as it jutted to a halt. The doors opened into a long narrow hallway where a doorway at the end was decorated beautifully with banners and ribbons and signs that celebrated the journeys of so many children I'd come to know and love over the past few years. I'd been here a hundred times before... probably a hundred more than that... and yet this time felt so different.

This time meant so much more.

It was strange knowing that for the first time in all of my years working at the hospital, I'd be attending the annual 'Friends and Survivor's Party" as an outsider.

I smiled awkwardly at Aj, who was standing beside me now, staring as if perhaps I'd grown a second head. Probably wondering why I was just hanging out there in the middle of the hallway refusing to move. I shook my head slowly, trying to gather my feelings, "I don't think I can do this Aje..." I whispered as I stared towards the doorway... "I'm not sure I can go through with this."

He gave my hand a comforting squeeze and smiled slightly. "You can," he whispered back, "you can and you will. For Sheila... for Matthew."

I stared down at my son, sleeping peacefully on my chest curled up in his baby carrier, paci hanging from his lips, fists clenched tightly as if he were ready to battle the first person who dared try and take it away. My beautiful Matthew. My angel. All at once the emotions came rushing in.

I felt so much love for my beautiful boy... and at the very same time I felt a powerful feeling of sorrow... and of fear. These were the kinds of overwhelming emotions that kept me awake nights, lying in my bed, trying to convince myself that it was normal to worry so much. I'd once heard it said that having a baby is like having a piece of your heart walking around outside your body. I saw it now, so true and so unbelievably fitting. Matthew was seven weeks old... seven whole weeks. And those seven weeks felt like they'd gone by way too fast... and they felt like an eternity all at the same time. I couldn't imagine my life without my son, nor could I remember the day when he wasn't a part of my life. He was so much a part of me now that my world revolved around him. He wasn't just a part of our lives... he had become our entire lives in just seven short weeks. I could only imagine what fourteen years would feel like.

And when I thought about the pain and suffering and sadness that all of individuals -- the parents and the children on the other side of that doorway -- had been through... It made my heart fill with pride, and hurt and anger. So many emotions for a heart to feel at one time. And I silently wondered if one day, at the beginning of their child's life, they'd snuggled that tiny baby against their chest and worried about all of the same things that I worried about. Things that I worried about because I knew... knew from seeing and from being there every step of the way... what things there were in life that were really worth worrying over.

I felt Aj behind me, gently prodding me along with his hands. It wasn't the first time Aj had offered to attend one of the events at the hospital... but it was the first time I'd taken him up on the offer. Not because I didn't want him there, or because I didn't think I needed him there, but because I'd always made it such a point to keep these two parts of my life -- my marriage and my work -- as separate as possible. But now that I wasn't working there anymore, now that I was coming in just to visit... just to share... it didn't seem to matter so much anymore. Inviting Aj on this day just seemed the most natural thing to do.

We were moving towards the door now and for some reason, some unknown reason, a calm took over my body. I felt Aj's hands there on my back, and Matthew on my chest, and somehow I just knew that everything would be okay.

We'd been at the party for nearly an hour, the calm I'd felt before walking in the room with Aj staying with me the entire time. It felt good being there again, amongst the things that had become so familiar to me after all those years -- those IV's and medications. The bald little heads and the tears glistening in the eyes of the parents, just beyond the sight of their children... their children who acted as if not a thing in the world was wrong. I quickly fell back into the routine of hushed conversation between a nurse and a parent whose child played off in the distance. I fondly remembered the celebrations thrown each and every single time a battle was won, be it a small battle or a grand one in the scheme of things... nothing was ever treated as trivial when it came to wars these children fought.

And Aj. My amazing husband.

I watched as he quietly made his way through the room, introducing himself to my co-workers -- nurses and doctors alike -- some of whom had been fans and some of whom still were. I smiled as he shook hands with excited teenagers and gave hugs to the little ones who quickly figured out from the excitement of their older friends that he must be someone pretty special. I smiled as he stopped and played a game of cards with a 10-year-old leukemia patient, shaking my head in agreement when he let the young boy win and offered him a quick high five at the end of the game. I laughed when he stopped a moment to take a goofy picture with some of the older patients who were clearly thrilled to be meeting a Backstreet Boy. I couldn't have been more proud of his response to this tough situation. I knew he'd visited kids in hospitals before, but I'd never seen it firsthand. He made me so amazingly proud.

I didn't see Matthew's mom when she first arrived. I was seated in the corner of the room nursing my own little one when I noticed her standing at the punch table with another mother. I couldn't help but stare in awe at the woman standing there. She looked beautiful. She was wearing a lovely dress and her makeup looked perfect. She was smiling and she was laughing. I cuddled Matthew closer in my arms and wondered how anyone could be doing so well so shortly after losing their child. But then she turned again and our eyes locked and I saw for the first time the tears that were glistening there and I knew that no matter how beautiful and perfect and amazing she looked on the outside, inside there was still a woman hurting. A woman suffering a loss so big I could never even begin to understand it's magnitude.

I watched as she glided across the room towards where I sat, for a moment my mind played back to all of the conversations we'd had over the years I'd cared for Matthew. This woman, a veteran traveler, had once spent her weeks flying around the world with her husband, visiting foreign lands and learning about amazing cultures. She'd shared so many stories of her travels with me in those dark hours when Matthew had received treatment. But then her husband had been diagnosed with cancer and he'd died... and then Matthew... and now, now it was just her and her daughter and I wondered if she would ever be able to gain back even a minute bit of the freedom she'd once experienced.

I stood as she reached the table, cradling Matthew on my right side as I reached over and hugged her tightly.

"Is this your little one?" she asked smiling as I pulled back the blankets so that she could take a closer peek, "oh he's just beautiful."

I felt Aj behind me then and I took a deep breath. I'd been waiting for months for this moment. For Aj to meet Matthew's mother... for Matthew's mother to meet our Matthew. "Sheila," I whispered taking her hand in mine, "I'd like you to meet my husband Aj."

I watched as she reached over and shook Aj's hand firmly. "Aj," I whispered, "This is Sheila."

I watched as Aj's eyes grew wider. I'd only told him about Matthew a week before. Up until then he'd believed that the name for our son had just come to me on a whim. I'd showed him the video though, as I'd edited it... and I'd told him. He'd cried with me... he'd told me he'd be proud to have his son named after such an amazing young man.

Aj leaned over to hug Sheila then, "It's a pleasure to meet you ma'am."

Aj took Matthew from my arms and held him close, kissing him gently on the forehead and stroking his soft hair against his cheek. I watched as Sheila smiled on from beside me. "Aj reminds me of my husband," she said. "Jimmy was always so great with Matthew and Molly." I smiled. "What's his name?" She asked. It took me by surprise... almost as if I weren't expecting the question.

Aj looked at me and I looked at him. I shook my head and Aj held our son out towards her arms. I watched on as Sheila reached for him and then held him close. "Sheila," I whispered as I watched her take a seat at the table, "We'd like you to meet Matthew McLean."

I looked down at her and she stared up at me, the tears welling up in both our eyes.

"You mean... he's... after... after my Matthew?"

I smiled and nodded... "after your Matthew."

She reached out for me and the two of us embraced.

"Thank you," she whispered as we pulled apart and she stared into the crystal blue eyes of my beautiful son. "You really don't know how much this means to me... thank you."