I write this with tears falling down my cheeks as they have been for the last 20 minutes laying in bed trying to relax and go to sleep. But, I can’t relax. Drew’s big surgery is, by the time I finish this post, tomorrow and I am more anxious about this surgery than I have ever been for any surgery before it. I suppose it’s normal to be this worked up before a major surgery because this is pretty much routine for us. I hoped I wouldn’t be falling apart.
People said that the second leg surgery would be easier as I would know what to expect. But it’s simply not true. So far, this is harder. Knowing that tomorrow Drew’s pain is going to be multiplied is not making it easier. Saying goodbye to the last few months’ of relatively easy-going, bright days is killing me. Sure, he’s had difficult nights and some challenges here and there, but it was smooth sailing compared to what’s in store for us.
I’m a Virgo with an overactive imagination which means that I’m a natural worrier who creates dramatic scenes in my mind. I’ve imagined, in great detail, all of the terrible things that could go wrong tomorrow. What if his little heart with its defects has become weakened from all of this stress and he suffers a tear while under anesthesia? What if they can’t control his bleeding? What if he has a bad reaction to the anesthesia? I imagine how the doctor would tell us. What our reactions would be. I imagined mine would be numbness which sends me into a state of shock followed by rage and denial and by the time I get to thinking that I would just completely mentally shut down, rejecting all reality, I couldn’t stand it anymore and had to find release.
Fact is, I could not live without Drew. My life could not go on. New baby or not, if Drew is not there, I just would have so little desire to continue that I know I would die of a broken heart. I suffered the loss of a son before and I made it through somehow despite how difficult and impossible I thought it was during those first few months, but I don’t have it in me to do it again. I would never recover.
It’s difficult right now to stay strong. As a family, we’ve been through so much since May. We left our home, friends and family and moved across country to unfamiliar areas and no ties to anybody. We’ve subjected Drew to insurmountable pain and watched him suffer. We’ve gone through all of this and have yet to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I’m emotionally weakened now. It was easier in May when we were fresh and confident. Now, I feel beat down, tired, weak, and sad. We aren’t even at our halfway mark yet.
Nathan and Ann are here and in the other room. I know they will both be upset that instead of seeking them out for comfort I chose to go through this alone (especially Nathan), but as Nathan always says I “do my best to handle everything on my own.” It’s not that I don’t think they feel the same way I do, Lord knows they do. It’s just that they are peaceful, enjoying a good night’s rest and who am I to interrupt their slumber to work up their own anxieties about the surgery? We are all worried about it and I don’t want to stir it up in them when they are able to rest. I hate being this anxious and upset. Why would I want to disturb them?
Anyway, there is really nothing anybody, even Nathan and Ann, can say or do to make things better. I KNOW that it will get better. I know that after all of this is said and done, it will be worth it. But, that doesn’t matter to me right at this very second. What matters is Drew is fixing to undergo a major operation with many risks, albeit by a highly sought after and qualified surgeon. But, a mommy who knows how painful it is to lose a child never stops worrying.
I pray that Drew is spared as much pain as humanly possible. I pray that Drew is able to get through this rough period without losing his spirit. I pray that Drew is able to walk like we’ve all been dreaming for him and that we can all handle it together as a family.