Ivy experienced her first cold at 8 months, and then her first fever right afterwards. It was stressful but we survived it. We had a nice Thanksgiving despite her being sick again with cold #2. My parents came here instead of our usual tradition of going to their house. I didn't want Ivy traveling so close to her removal surgery which is scheduled for this coming Thursday, December 3. The biggest stressor came a week ago when her doctor heard a wheeze during her pre surgery physical. I thought we were out of the woods regarding possible asthma because she hasn't had any problems to date. Two brothers have asthma so I knew it was a possibility. I was devastated to hear this news. We had a week of nebulizer treatments and oral steroids. She was so agitated and it seemed like she wanted to crawl out of her skin at times. It’s hard to watch and not be able to fix or offer comfort. She went back yesterday and the doctor said her lungs are clear. Surgery is a go!
I want to focus on really exhaling my breath. I have been so tense for the last several months. My focus has heavily been on trying to keep Ivy well. Once again, that "need" to control everything. I crave a big EXHALE. A full and long EXHALE. I make attempts but I’m not there yet. I cried for the first time yesterday. I don't cry much. I feel emotions heavily but rather than cry, I usually experience my emotions in a much less healthy way. I wish I cried more. It feels good actually. I cried as I stroked her fuzzy brown cheeks. These cheeks, this nose, this forehead. This face has brought me so much joy for the past almost nine months. I feel sad knowing I am saying goodbye to her sweet face the way I have come to love it and know it. What lies ahead?? How bad will the scarring be? What will happen with her nasal flap? What will the surgeon do with her eyelid? Will it look normal? Will it ever look normal? Not knowing is hard. The unknown....and then I think everything into the "worst" case scenario. I have tried to strengthen my faith through this process, diligently asking God to keep Ivy safe, and to guide the surgeon's hands on Thursday. I realize that I have no control over these things. But I do control my exhale. I would be wise to put more focus on that. "Robin, just breath." Less focus on making myself mad by attempting to be in control of so much that I will never control. The chips are going to fall where they may. We have made wise, well thought out decisions. We know we have done the best thing for Ivy. In the meantime, I hope I can cry. I want to feel what I'm feeling in a more healthy way.
I am scared about Thursday. I do ask for your continued thoughts and prayers. I hope that I can hold it together in the waiting room. I hope I can hold it together when I lay my eyes on her for the first time in the recovery room. I ask for and pray for strength. I hope I can remind myself why I made this choice. I hope I can give myself plenty of permission to be sad and scared, but hopeful and optimistic.
I am continually overwhelmed at the support we have. I feel so much love….so much love.
Peace be with all of you. I ask for my own peace.