Journal: Sadness

I had my first official breakdown tonight with James' looming surgery.  Its weird, I am surprised it took this long, yet not surprised.  I've been so focused on clarifying what will be happening, and then so focused on making arrangements, that I don't think I let the reality of it set in.  I think that process is just starting, and I think the next 2 weeks are going to be rough.

I was checking on Sara and James tonight, about 10 minutes after Jared had put them to bed.  I asked Sara how James was doing, since he has a tendency to sneak out of his bed.  She told me he was having an awesome night and he was doing so great.  Sara is not usually that complimentary...in fact, she regularly tries to weasel her way into sleeping in Karianna's room because she doesn't like sharing her room with James all of the time.  I told her that she sure was being nice to James.  Her response:  "Well, he's almost going to have heart surgery, so I'm trying to be really nice to him, and I think everyone should be really nice to him, and so that's why I'm being nice to him."

That did it.  Her comment struck deep to my core, and reality set in just a little more surely than it had been before that conversation. Over the course of the next hour or so, I could feel myself getting antsy, my heart rate increasing, some chest pain, and waves of heat.  Thankfully, Jared is a huge support and we talked and prayer for a while to get the feeling to dissipate-and dissipate it did.  Bringing James into my bed and snuggling for a while with him helped too.

I do not like this part of this journey.  I know how to overcome it and to what source to look; I am exceedingly grateful for those things.  It doesn't stop me from just hating this part.  I don't want to be haunted by the fears innate with impending surgery while trying to just focus on spending time with James.  I don't want to be thinking about hospitals when we go to the Zoo tomorrow.  I don't want to picture bright red scars when we go swimming the day after that.  I don't want to consider the things I'm not willing to voice.  It is hard to confront things that I have little control over, especially when they coincide with such intense feelings.  Finding peace, hope, comfort-I can do that, whether before, during, or after a moment of panic.  And still....I do not like this part.  

Faith looks ahead.