Waiting Game

"Wherever it is we're going now, you shall light the way, my sweet--and I shall walk for two."  --Shirley Hong


This weekend was entirely too short.  I felt as though we didn't do enough.  Like we couldn't cram it all in...everything she wanted to do.  Emma begged me to take her to Wonderwild or Chuck E. Cheese, or any suitable "jumping place."  On any other day, I would have.  But it's a big day tomorrow, and we don't need the germs.  Instead we fed the ducks at the park, went to dinner at their favorite restaurants, ordered big desserts, and picked up a few new odds and ends for the upcoming adventure.  We even had an impromptu family photo session.  Anything to keep us occupied.

I spent most of my weekend extremely stressed out.  I tried not to think into the future.  I tried to pack.  I tried to make single random moments into memories in my brain.  I forget them now.  It's amazing what stress can do to you.

"Mommy, can I still be a teenager?"
The girls were arguing over something and that was the question Emma asked.  'Can I still be a teenager?'  It made my heart jump a little.  I hope so.  It's not the way it sounds; they were arguing about something in some odd, childish frame of mind, and it just came out that way.  Nothing to worry about.  But it got me thinking.

Lately, I have been delving into really dark thoughts about Emma.  Making every moment count like it would be her last.  It's really terrifying to live like that.  But the truth of the matter is, I'm scared.  Really scared of what will happen to this child.  Whenever thoughts like this pop up, I squash them, brush them off, and try not to entertain them at all.  It's all been extremely difficult.  I haven't been able to shake this daunting fear about the upcoming surgery.

Sunday we found ourselves at church, twice.  Once for mass, the other to see our priest for a Catholic rite of sacrament: the anointing of the sick.  We try to go to mass weekly and sit in the cry room with our three young children.  Mostly, Mike prays while I chase the baby around and yell at the girls to quiet down.  Needless to say, I don't get as much prayer time as I'd like.  Lately though, God and I have been hanging out.  We talk a lot.  I ask for strength and peace, and He gives it.

We have had Emmy anointed with this sacrament, almost every time before she goes into surgery.  Our priest, Father Clint Bressler of St. Rose of Lima, is such an awesome guy.  Really funny too.  The girls love him, and try to hug/tackle him after each mass he officiates.

Today I was suffering from a major stress headache.  I knew it was stress, as it started in my shoulder blade and radiated along one side of my neck and head and into my eyeball.  Excruciating pain.  It was difficult to think, much less move, yet I found myself waiting in a car at the church parking lot, waiting to see our priest.  The sky was cloudy, yet bright enough to hurt my eyes, and the wind was blowing.  I thought it might rain.  We finally went inside and found Fr. Clint who brought us to the altar and prayed over Emma.  We bowed our heads as he made the sign of the cross on her forehead and palms of her hand with blessed oil.  I tried my best not to lose it, but I couldn't help it, the tears just poured down my face.

Once we were done, I felt this weight lifted off my shoulders.  Emma was laughing; giggling and squishing her oily hands together.  We thanked Fr. Clint, and headed out with a good feeling.  While we walked back to the car, I realized that the pounding pain in my head was gone.  And the sun was shining.  I knew then everything would be okay.  Please pray for a good surgery tomorrow.