It never gets easier. No matter how sure I am about how fortunate we are, and no matter how much time I spend praying for those other mothers- the ones who are waiting through surgeries beyond the scope of my emotional grasp, it never gets easier.
Today she walked away alone. Into the operating room without her father or myself. She’s in good hands. I really like the surgeon, and I’m a tough sell. Even having repeated this waiting twelve times before- it never gets easier.
I tried on the way in, to make her feel like it was not such a big deal. That was dumb. It’s a big deal. No matter what. I was trying to make her feel better. It didn’t even make ME feel better.
Because the truth is, we know. We know it could be worse. We are grateful all the time. But that doesn’t mean it’s not important. It doesn’t mean it’s not a big deal, and it doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter. Even if it’s the third one in the last 12 months. Even if it’s the 13th surgery.
Maybe especially if it’s the 3rd one in the last 12 months….
So she’s BEATINGCOWDENS… While I wait… My hero.