My Dearest Kate

It is 6:30am, the morning of your surgery. You have not slept a wink all night, and I am utterly exhausted and an emotional wreck. On our way to the hospital I tell Dad that I want to turn around and go home. I have had nightmares of you not waking up from the surgery, or if you do wake up, that you will not be your normal self. I know that some people may think that I am overreacting, but I know that if something were to happen to you, I don't know if I would be able to make it through that.

We arrived at check in, and are being escorted back to pre-op. Every part of me wants to grab you and run back down the long hall. I grow more nervous with every step that I take. It is a good thing that Dad is carrying you in your car seat. I rely a lot on your Dad for strength, and he is really good at providing it.

In Pre-op we are meet by a host of people: Residents, Doctors, Nurses, and anesthesiologists. Most asking the same questions: is she allergic to anything? When was the last time she ate? Do you know in your own words why she is having this surgery? Do you have any questions? The Doctor comes and marks your little cyst and asks us to get you in your gown. I am growing even more nervous, but at this point you could probably say that I am very scared. I smother you in kisses and whisper in you ear "I love you so much. Don't forget how much I love you." I also plead, "Come back to me." Your Papa kisses you good bye and they whisk you off in a warm blanket, with the promise that they will take good care of you. As I stand up to walk to the waiting room, I find your pink sock on the ground. I run around the corner and catch the anesthesiologist and hand her the sock. I catch a little glimpse of you over the residents shoulder, My heart is breaking. I want to shout at him to stop, but I know that this is for the best.

The elevator ride and walk to the waiting room just about kill me. I tell Dad for probably the hundredth time, that I want to go back and get you. He assures me that all is well. I do a mental check: Fasting and Prayer, Check. Fathers Blessing, Check. Prayers, Check. Tons of Prayers, Check. Your name placed in the Temple, Check, Check, and Check. I guess all I can to is turn this over to the Lord, it is out of my hands. All I can do now is worry. I have been trying to study statistics. Do you know how hard it is to study stats, with zero sleep and a baby in surgery. I am distracted by the clock, it is 9am and no word. I am getting a little worried. A couple is sitting next to me and we are talking about their Daughter who is having surgery for cysts too. Dad is sitting next to the closest power outlet and working on his school work. It is 9:15am I am wondering what is going on now. I have given up all hope on my class. A Doctor comes out and is talking to a mom whose little boy went in after you. Your surgery was only suppose to be 30 minutes, I am starting to get really worried. 9:35am the receptionist in the waiting room gets word that she can bring us up to see you. As we are walking down the hall I turn to her and ask, "Can we run?" She gives a little chuckle. She tells me that in the four years she has worked there, no one has asked her that. I told her,"well that's exactly how I feel inside right now."

We get up to post-op, I can see you. You are all wrapped up in blankets, you are very motionless. My heat kind of sinks, but nit a whole lot. I expect that you will open you eyes and respond to me when I start to speak, you know like in the movies. You can guess how much my heart sank when that wasn't the case. You are however moving and that is a great sigh of relief. You will open your eyes and look at Dad, but you fall back to sleep when I look at you. I am trying everything to get you to look at me, I need to see you eyes. Your eyes will tell me if you are there, I believe that they really are the window to your soul. It is 10:45am and still you are not waking up. I am very anxious to get you home, where you belong. I decide to feed you and see if you respond to food like you normally do. Luckily you take after me and start gobbling up your food as fast as possible.

We decide to take you home. Brett is so happy to see you, He is only allowed to kiss you on the head. He is pretty upset that we will not let him play with you. You sleep most of the day away, only waking up for a few hours, in which I feed you and love you. I try to make you laugh, you start to squeal at me, there is a huge grin on your face. I look into you eyes, there you are. You did come back to me. Prayers were answered. I have been blessed.