Monday, March 1, 2010

Birthdays and Surgeries

Tomorrow my little boy turns 1.  And mommy isn't doing so well.

I just can't believe that a year has already gone by.  With all of his health issues, work, raising 2 kids, etc., etc., I feel like I barely blinked before my little guy was already rounding a year on earth.  Actually, during the past week Truman has made some significant strides on the development side of things...which makes him seem more like a one year old.

So tomorrow my Tru turns a year old and the next day he will be wheeled away from me heading in for surgery.  Talk about a mixed bag of emotions. 

I am not doing well with the surgery part of things either.  I am trying to put on a brave face.  I am trying to convince myself that he is in incredible hands, some of the best in the world, and that kids roll through routine surgeries like this every day without a problem.  And then this little tickle of thought happens in the back of my mind.  I think about the fact that Truman isn't "normal" and therefore will have much more issues being under anesthesia.  He is only 12 months old and is tiny for his age.  He also isn't as strong as other kids, hence the whole reason for the surgery. 

I keep playing the moment that they will walk away with my baby in my arms over and over again in my head.  I try to not imagine what it would be like to never see my little boy smile at me again or hold my hand or fall asleep in my arms.  I try not to think that there could be any possibility that he wouldn't come home with us.  Tonight at bedtime Scout made me promise that Truman was going to come home from the hospital...and I did.  Of course I did.  And as I walked away I had to fight the urge to scream and pound my fists on the floor and curse whoever made this a conversation that I have to have with my 6 year old.

I keep reminding myself that I am over thinking.  That the surgery is routine.  The surgery is routine dammit.  Why do I feel like this?  Why do I feel like my whole world is falling down around me because of a 20 minute surgery that is performed hundreds of times a year at Children's Mercy.

So instead of dwelling, instead of sitting here continuing to drip tears onto my keyboard...I am going to close out this post and start a new one.  I am going to write about the birth of my son and the incredible year that we have had together.  I am going to focus on the joy that tomorrow truly is in the grand scheme of things.

But I will ask for prayers and good thoughts for my Truman on Wednesday.  Pray for the doctors and nurses.  Pray for Scout as she struggles with her little brother being in surgery.  Pray for my family for strength to continue to support us.  And for a moment stop and be thankful that we are all here to have the opportunity to have the most amazing little guy in our lives.


  1. I will be with you in spirit, my love. I understand why you are freaked regardless of the routine nature of the surgery. But remember it's just one more brick in the wall you guys are building. You can do this.

  2. I've been there, Becca. I can absolutely relate - especially when they brought Kay Lee back with every tube/monitor whatever hooked up to her after her stomach surgery. I know that fear. I know the thoughts "will I ever see my baby again?" My heart hurts for you.

    The pictures you share of Truman fill my heart with joy, though. I just see that boy growing up to do great things. God has so much planned for him. You, my friend, are an amazing mother working tirelessly (through the exhaustion and the tears) to give him the best life. Know this in your heart and that there are many of us around you to support you through the times like you posted above. It is okay - okay to be scared, to have questions, to wonder "what if?" It's all in love.
    While it will be a long night (again I've been there) - rest as best you can. I'm sending hugs, and every prayer request you listed above is detailed on my list. You got it. Call if you need an outside person to listen (FB has my number). My shoulders drip dry.
    Hugs and prayers,