Here We Go!

I played an exciting game of phone tag and we are officially "it." 

After calling PCH for the millionth time within the past month I finally was rewarded with a productive call back. Olivia's cath order came through this morning and this afternoon she officially got on the schedule. 

We had two dates available, one being next Thursday. I decided I needed a little more time to prepare (of course that means extra time to panic...) so we went for the next available which is May 4th. We'll get a call the Friday before (the 4th is a Monday) to find out what time slot she'll get. So I have three weeks to prepare, panic, and pray. For those who are so inclined, we will be holding a fast for Olivia on the 3rd. I will, of course, post a reminder on Facebook as it gets a little closer.

Allow me to indulge in a little journaling at this time. Feel free to stop reading if you don't want to hear my emotional ramblings.

I'm feeling a little jittery. Like how you get when you've just received shocking news? Not that this is shocking. But it is. One thing I have learned about myself over the past three years is I am an expert at denial. I can know something is coming, talk about it like it's no big deal, and be totally fine. And then with one swift emotional kick to the gut it's not. A date, a memory, any number of things can take me from denial to reality. Now that I have the reality, aka the date, I'm a bit in shock. We've done caths before and they're not so bad. It's what comes after the cath. The Fontan.

I haven't seen Olivia in a hospital bed, tied down by wires, tubes, and cords since she was 4 months old. I haven't seen her intubated, I haven't watched those monitors obsessively, or held her hand when I couldn't hold her since then. I've never had to worry about what pain she'd remember, or the fear she would feel going back into the O.R. without us, or how she would handle not being held for a day or two or who knows how long. I knew she wouldn't remember it. I was scared for the first two surgeries. But this time is a whole new scary. A whole new kind of heart breaking. We've spent the last two years without tubes, without being constantly scared, without every single moment revolving around Olivia's heart. The last two years we were able to achieve normal. Our lives revolved around our family, being happy, pretending that our future wasn't what we always knew it would be. And now we're faced with reality. 

Still, the reality we have is beautiful and miraculous. Olivia is absolutely beautiful and miraculous. A stubborn, whining, stinker. but beautiful. She talks about boobs and makeup all the time. The other day after her bath she was wrapped in her towel and said "Mommy? You wanna see my body?" Then lifted her towel, stuck out her butt and shook it at me. She has caused my scowl wrinkle between my eyebrows, she has caused my crows feet from smiling. She has caused weight gain and weight loss (I am both and eater and non-eater with stress just depending on what's causing it) And she has made our family beautifully complete. She has shown me that miracles, big and small, are a daily occurrence. She has shown me how strong I am and how strong she is. No matter what the next couple months hold for us, I will focus on the beautiful reality we have right now. I am incredibly blessed.