Journal: Limbo

Yesterday, we felt like we were in Limbo.

We received a phone call from our surgeon's scheduler yesterday morning.  I knew what it was as soon as I heard the message.  So did Jared.  I called back just to confirm it:  James' surgery is being rescheduled.  He is now scheduled for Monday, September 29th at 8am. They told us this was a possibility, but there is no planning for this possibility. You can't mentally plan to MAYBE go in for major heart surgery on a certain day, because if you actually end up going, you will feel ill-prepared.  Its all or nothing.  Unfortunately, that means if it does get moved back, you are in for a train ride of emotions that only leads to Limbo, which is where we live right now, apparently.

The interesting thing is, nothing bad happened.  The scheduler told us a newborn had come in over the weekend and needed surgery asap.  Dr. Nigro, being the renowned surgeon that he is, was needed.  Apparently several folks got bumped around, including James.  If it was my baby, I would want for other parents to be considerate and understanding....and we are.  I know that feeling all too well.  So, nothing bad happened, and I'm so glad that baby will get the help he or she needs.

For us, though, the emotions are strange, enough to just make us feel stuck.

We have been planning for this day.  The arrangements have been made, work situations have been finalized, meals and childcare have been scheduled, and most importantly, our emotions have been fortified.  Thus, when that phone call came, despite my gratitude that our surgeon will be able to help another baby in need, we still felt like a steamroller had plowed over us about ten times in a row.  It was deflating realizing that we now have to anticipate surgery for another week.  Crushing, really.  It is no easy feat accepting that on a certain day, you will have to take your baby to the hospital knowing that you will be audience for one of the hardest speeches a parent has to listen to regarding the risks of heart surgery.  The prospect of staying strong in anticipation of that speech, and so many other things, for another week, is crushing.

While we are struggling to wrap our minds around this change, I do think we handled the day well.  I knew immediately that I had to choose not to focus on the emotions.  I went into hyper mode communicating the change to all necessary parties.  I finalized all the plans in record time for the new surgery date.  I confirmed pre-op testing with the hospital for this Friday.  I finished up a few other cleaning jobs and mentally made a plan for maintaining the cleanliness of the house.  I chatted with James in a very light-hearted manner, asking him how many days until surgery, and when his little finger popped up and he said, "One day!", I gently pulled up 6 fingers and corrected him.  He didn't seem to care; I decided to take my cue from him.

Jared came home early because he felt just as weird as I did-he described it as feeling like he was caught in a stupor of thought....his supervisor told him to leave because it was so obvious how much the change threw him for a loop.  He likes to take care of things to get them done so he can move forward....this was the exact opposite of how he likes to operate, hence why it was difficult for him (amongst other reasons).  He took a nap, worked a little from home, and then we escaped the house to walk the mall with James and Jacks.  We watched the kittens and dogs at the pet store.  We watched James run down the mall corridor with Jacks' blanket wrapped around his neck, sailing out behind him like a superhero cape.  He was joyful, and it was easy to smile despite our sudden flight to Limbo.

Though we probably had a bazillion things to do last night, we opted to forgo all responsible things, and we jumped in the pool, even Jared.  The kids did all their fun dives and jumps for my camera, Jared catapulted the kids in the air into flips and twisted back dives (also for my camera), and he played a simple yet enticing game where the kids had 30 seconds to touch his head.  That's it.  They would try to touch his head, and he would just grab their hands and deflect them away.  He was the victor every time.  That is-until it was my turn.  When the kids started counting, I reached out as if to touch Jared's head, and let him grab my hands as I knew he would....and in that moment, I kissed his cheek, thus winning the game.  He never even saw it coming, but what better way to win that game?  I am so grateful for my family and for my husband who supports me in everything.

The night was hard.  It was as if my brain was still anticipating surgery the next day.  I couldn't sleep.  I was anxious the entire night.  I finally got out of bed at 2:20 am and worked for an hour or so before watching an episode of "What Not To Wear" on Netflix, and drifting off 15 minutes into the second.  I woke up screaming when the sky was just lightening, sure that there was a spider on my blanket....typical night terror for me.  So strange...I knew we weren't going to the hospital, and I thought I had reached a good place about that the day before-I should have been okay with that, and for some reason, my body kept reacting as if anticipating an early morning drive to the hospital with James in tow.  I snuck into James' room and rocked him for a few minutes before dozing off again until the alarm rang.

Today, I feel okay, albeit very nervous about the next 6 days.  I know why, and yet I don't.  I am actively choosing to stay positive and view this as a blessing:  more laughs and giggles, more playing, more bedtime songs, more family prayers, more hugs and kisses.  This morning James and I finished cleaning the toy room, we snuggled together watching Super Why, and I played "If You're Happy and You Know It" on the piano while he did all the actions with great gusto, laughing his head off when Jackson also started clapping.  Had things remained the same, he would have been in surgery at that very moment-and yet, I get to hear his infectious giggle and see those unreal curls.  This can't be a bad thing, right?  We press forward despite the strange context, and live every moment to the fullest.  That's the land we are in, and we keep moving forward.