My dearest Lydia Anne,
We are, as a family, drawing nearer to your surgery date. Its still an unknown, but I feel in my heart that this cardiology appointment will be the turning point. I don't know how these things work but if it's anything like how fast things moved when I was pregnant and first found out about your heart, it will be a whirlwind of doctor's appointments, tests and prepping for an open-ended hospital stay. I try very hard to not think about it all. I just want to drink you in. I don't know how to shed the tough persona I have put up and I'm still not very good at leaning on other people, including God, even though I am trying. I'm a fixer. That's what I do. I can easily coordinate a million tiny details..doctor appointments, therapy sessions, daily chores, taxi service for your brothers, etc., but all that will stop in the face of putting you in the hand of a surgeon, who will, quite literally, have your tiny life in his hands. I find in the silence and shadows of the night, when there is nothing left to occupy my mind, that in the recesses of my heart, I am absolutely terrified.
It's a hard pill for a "fix-it" mama to swallow that I am helpless to fix your tiny broken heart. I can't spare you from the pain that I am sure will follow even with all of the cuddling in the world. I can't give you the determination that you will need to fight to recover. I am not in control of the beating of your little heart, or the surgeon's hands, or so many other things. From the moment I hand you over, all I will be able to do is pray more than I ever have and hope that every prayer reaches Heaven so that God can send your guardian angels to watch over you while I can not.
I read all the stories of other mamas who have went through this already. Although every story gives me hope and fills my heart with a brief glimmer of joy, I still hear that tiny voice of fear whispering in the back of my mind. I don't know those babies. They're not MY baby. I feel like I know you as intimately as I know myself. I rejoiced when God gave me the miracle, and I continued to rejoice the whole time I was pregnant. Every single day, I knew your strength, determination, and personality a little bit more. With every ultrasound picture, I watched you grow and memorized your little face. You are my most amazing gift! Every little thing about you is absolutely perfect...your crazy hair, your big blue eyes, your chubby cheeks and gorgeous lips, gummy smile, crooked pinkies and chubby legs! You are full of sunshine and laughter, strength, determination and you practically brim over with opinions and things to say (even though we have NO idea what they are yet lol).
Faced with the lackluster little bug you were after your allergic reaction to milk, all I wanted was my baby back. And that's the part that scares me the most. I have a vision in my mind of you returning to that, without your fire. Even though I know that it will be temporary, its just not something I ever wanted to see again... my little angel covered in tubes and wires, laying there passively, without even a shred of laughter in your eyes. I'm trying to steel myself for it, but I'm really not sure that anyone could ever be completely prepared.
I'll keep trying. I know that this is necessary, and that you will be stronger because of it. I just love you so much! Know without a doubt that if I was able to give you my heart to save you from this, i would in a heartbeat. I would take all of your pain myself if I were able. I would walk through the very fires of Hell for you, without a moment's hesitation. You are my most precious wish come to life and are continually more than I ever could have known to ask for. I will be in that waiting room, and beside your crib, praying my heart out and loving you more than words could ever say......
xoxoxo, Mommy
