Waiting

Well my sweet boy, it looks like we have more waiting. I feel as though we have been waiting for months and months and months, well because we have, since I first started bleeding last September. We got your echo results yesterday and your pulmonary hypertension was a bit high since we stopped your meds for it. So the doc put you back on the medicine and we will do another echo next week. Looks like when you're ready for surgery you may have to do it while on the meds. That's unnerving since your heart needs to get you through the trauma of surgery.  Today your oxygen had a setback and you went up to 80 percent. Because of that the doctor increased your steroids again. We were weaning them down to try and prepare for surgery. Right now we don't know when surgery will happen. 

I feel like I'm climbing an emotional Mount Everest. The mountain continues to require more of me, needing me to climb past the point of exhaustion. Instead of plateaus and opportunities to cruise for a short while, my breaks feel more like I'm hanging on the side of the mountain. It still takes incredible strength to hang on, but I get a "break" from going up. That said, the breaks don't really feel like breaks. 

I sang, "I am a child of God," to you when I was next to your crib. I realized in the third verse it says 

I am a child of God, 

rich blessings are in store

If I but learn to do his will

I'll live with him once more

Lead me, guide me, 

Walk beside me 

help me find the way 

Teach me all that I must do

To live with him someday 

I am trying my very hardest to learn to do heavenly father's will. On my way home from the hospital I sobbed. I sobbed until my head was tingling. I had time because the freeway was closed. If only 2 hours in traffic were the tough part of my day. 

With the uncertainty of when the surgery can happen (the surgery you need to slowly get better) that you are too sick to have, I feel like we are stuck between two boulders. Boulders so high I can't even see anything but the hard rock. Although I don't know how we will get through this,  somehow we will. Heavenly Father is mindful of us. He knows what is best for each of us. So I will continue to trust in Him. 

I'm late pumping so I'd better go. 

I love you, baby boy. 

So much.  

You are worth this climb, Caleb. Never ever doubt that.

Xoxo

Mom