Okay, now that I've had my meltdown...I'm going to follow the advice of the divine Nikki: We're not gonna lose it...we're gonna pull ourselves together. Yeah...right...mmmhmmm...or, I could lose it. Big time.
When your baby has surgery at Riley, they call you the day before to get all the details nailed down. I don't know if you picked that up or not...the day before. My fellow teachers, you know we need to control pretty much all the details of our universe like we control the goings on of our own classrooms, can I get an amen? Do you know how I've been obsessing over not knowing when Allie's last feeding could be, or when Allie needed to arrive at the hospital, or what I needed to bring Allie, or what to do for her pain...I had a pretty extensive list of questions and not getting them answered until today was my own little personal form of Chinese water torture. Drip...can I feed her in recovery?...drip...when can she come home?...drip...how close to the time of surgery can I be with her? Drip, drip, drip, all week.
By the time Rhonda, my own personal angel-nurse called me today, I was wound a little tight. Which probably became evident to Rhonda when I started sobbing on the phone as she asked me her own list of questions, like if Allie had ever had an infectious disease, cancer, diabetes, heart murmurs. Listening to the laundry list of things that could be wrong with my sweet little Alexa Grace made me feel overwhelmingly grateful and overwhelmingly terrified at the same time. By the time it was my turn to ask questions, I could hardly choke them out between snuffles (for the record I can feed her until 6, pedialyte until 7, she can come home as early as an hour and a half after the surgery, she has to drink something first).
When I got off the phone, I looked over at my baby, and she gave me the biggest, brightest, cheesecake-iest grin I've ever seen...and I literally felt my heart crack and shatter. The racking sobs started again. I scooped her up and laid in the fetal position on my couch with her cradled against my heart. I think at one point after her first appointment at Riley, Todd told me how proud of me he was for not crying when she got scoped. And I think I told him that I didn't want to cry in front of her because I felt like I should be strong since she was the one going through something so difficult (what a gramatically awful sentence, sorry). Well, Mommy-fail. I cry cry cried. It was an ugly, snot-faced cry. Allie smiled again. What a beautiful little bunny.
Then I pulled it together, fed my baby until she fell asleep, and laid her down so she could rest. She has a big day tomorrow. I know how blessed I am, and that Allie is. After tomorrow, her one little health hiccup will be gone, and I'll have a 100% healthy baby, but right now it is so hard to see past what is going to happen tomorrow morning. I'm so grateful to God for my sweet little girl. I'm going to try not to lose it again...but if I do, I know He'll understand, and that Allie will smile at me and make it better. More importantly, I know He'll be with her tomorrow in the operating room, when I can't. That gives me more peace than anything.
You know we are praying tonight and tomorrow. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call.
ReplyDeleteLove you.
ReplyDeleteBabies know when to be strong for their mamas, don't they? :) We'll be praying tomorrow.
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