It’s taken me a week to write this blog. I’ve tried three times now, but finding the words to describe these last two weeks seems impossible. It all started the week before Alexa’s surgery when I received a most disturbing phone call from someone I love dearly. All pain and accusations stemming from misunderstandings and falsehoods. As Alexa’s surgery grew closer, instead of being able to focus on Alexa, my mind went over and over the phone call situation and texts as I tried desperately to understand how any of this could have happened. After all the love, time, work and support I’ve given, after all the energy I’ve spent loving and caring and trying to resolve issues so everyone is happy, how could it be thrown in my face like I’m some horrible evil criminal? I hoped and prayed the conflict would resolve, somehow… but alas, we were ultimately abandoned during one of the hardest times of our lives. George, Alexa, my Mom, my Brother and I spent Alexa’s birthday weekend together alone. It was still a nice birthday weekend, but a huge pain in my heart made it impossible to devote everything I needed to my baby girl Alexa. My Dad and Mom drove all the way from Texas Texas
The Monday after Alexa’s birthday weekend was the day before surgery. I struggled desperately. My mind was silently out of control. I can’t even describe it. But I put on a strong face despite the pain.
Tuesday, we arrived at the hospital at 8am. We went from waiting room to waiting room until we wound up in the Pre-O.R. area. It took everything in me to remain strong in there. When the surgical nurse took my baby out of my arms and walked out the door with her I crumbled inside. The doc said 2 hours from start to finish, so I looked down at my watch and began timing him. 10:43am. George, my Mom and I relocated to the surgical waiting room to sit with other family members anxiously waiting while their children were being cut open as well. “The Price is Right” was on the Television… no one was watching it. The three of us had random conversations about nothing trying to pass the time without breaking down. We saw many families come and go. Time was crawling. Finally, it had been 2 hours. But no one came. 1pm. What’s going on? I was counting on 2 hours and it’s been 2 hours and 17 minutes! Where’s my baby? Is she okay? 1:10pm. A surgical nurse arrives and takes us to the Post-O.R. ICU recovery.
It was such a relief to see my baby girl. The surgery went well. Alexa’s vitals looked good, but she still had not opened her eyes. As she lay there, so beautiful and peaceful, with tubes sticking out of her all over the place, we hovered around her bed in silence listening to the beep, beep, beep of the oxygen and heart monitors. Suddenly, George turns to us and says, could you imagine if your child suffered from a terminal disease? Could you imagine if we all had to go through this kind of thing or worse on a regular basis not knowing if our child will survive this round? We all watched Alexa sleep and thought about how grateful we are that our child is okay. We thought about how precious life is and how anyone you love could go at any minute. We must cherish each other, love each other, support each other, respect each other. If something is happening that you don’t understand, if someone you love has angered you… Don’t hold regrets. We are all going through so much. All of us humans. Each one of us has a story. Each one of us has happiness, pain, hopes and dreams. Compassion is so important, more important than anything else. Life is just too short to let even one day slip by you, to let even one day be wasted in pain, negativity or regret.
George's oldest daughter went through an extremely major back surgery about 3 years ago. Her mother radiated strength through the experience in front of us all, but I could see in her eyes and I could feel in her heart woman-to-caring-woman she was suffering greatly. I felt for her and sympathized with her. George and I were both there, of course, for the entire surgery and week long hospital stay and felt such great pain as well. I don't know how many times I broke down, in solitude, while driving back to the hotel from the hospital and when trying to sleep in my hotel room while George spent the night in the hospital with her. When I had to fly home to go back to work, I balled my eyes out the entire flight because it felt so wrong to leave. It is so heartbreaking to see someone you love go through something like this, but as hard as both these surgeries are for the patient and the parents, we are well aware it could be so much worse and we are so grateful everyone is healthy and strong.
George's oldest daughter went through an extremely major back surgery about 3 years ago. Her mother radiated strength through the experience in front of us all, but I could see in her eyes and I could feel in her heart woman-to-caring-woman she was suffering greatly. I felt for her and sympathized with her. George and I were both there, of course, for the entire surgery and week long hospital stay and felt such great pain as well. I don't know how many times I broke down, in solitude, while driving back to the hotel from the hospital and when trying to sleep in my hotel room while George spent the night in the hospital with her. When I had to fly home to go back to work, I balled my eyes out the entire flight because it felt so wrong to leave. It is so heartbreaking to see someone you love go through something like this, but as hard as both these surgeries are for the patient and the parents, we are well aware it could be so much worse and we are so grateful everyone is healthy and strong.
Around 2:30pm, Alexa opened her eyes. She was weak and thirsty. She drank 3 cups of Apple juice and then they brought us to her recovery room where Alexa and I stayed for the next four days. The only time she got out of bed the first three days was after she was forced to move to the chair next to the bed while the nurses cleaned up her vomit and changed the sheets yet again. I moved her gingerly and helped her to be as comfortable as possible. Through all her pain and severe nausea, every so often, she would turn to me and say, “Thank you, Mommy.” Her compassion and gratitude was remarkable even in these tough times. She’s barely 2 years old and understands more about gratitude than most adults. Physically and emotionally, it was a tough four days for us both, then things finally began to get better, and fast.
By Friday, Alexa had, had enough. She was ready and determined to go home. She walked up and down the hospital halls while being showered with comments from nurses and other hospital staff about how adorable she is. We had some friends come visit us and Alexa’s hospital bed teamed with stuff animal friend gifts. My facebook was flooded with friends and family’s prayers and wishes for strength and a fast recovery. We are so grateful to have so many people who love us and care about us. We are truly so grateful. Sadly, I never heard from the loved one who caused so much heartache and grief for me in the week and days leading up to Alexa’s surgery. I am still deeply hurt and completely confused on what is even happening to our relationship and why. But, people are who they are. We can not control them. All we can do is love them. If they accept our love, wonderful. If not, that doesn’t change the fact that we still care. All I can do now is give thanks for all the support we did receive. Thank you. Thank you. thank you for helping my daughter overcome this surgery. Thank you for giving me the strength to handle this difficult time in my life. Thank you to all our loved ones, family and friends who support us through good times and bad. Thank you for our health, the sunshine, the rain, the breeze, water, A/C, clean sheets, organic food, smiles, laughs, lemons, peaches, kisses, hugs. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. thank you. thank you. I can’t say thank you enough. I am so grateful for all love and life.
