I knew this was going to be hard. I prepared myself as much as I could mentally. I knew it was going to be hard to hand him over to the nurse and watch her walk down the hall. I knew it was going to be tough to sit in the waiting room and try not to think too much about what they were doing to my baby. I knew it was going to be scary to see him with all the tubes and wires going in and out of his little body. But not being able to hold him while he's right in front of me crying as hard as he can...don't think I ever could have prepared myself enough for that one. I know he's uncomfortable and he just stares at me with this "why aren't you doing something about this" look. So sad.
I've definitely had a lot of emotional ups and downs this week. Conner needing the second surgery kind of through me for a loop and I think it took more out of me than I realized. It was hard enough getting through the first one and it was pretty much torture the second time around. But being in the PICU for a week has given me a new perspective on our situation.
There's a girl in a room down the hall that won't be going home.
And a little boy who came in last night and only lasted a few hours.
Two routine heart surgeries and a 6-8 week recovery period doesn't seem so tough anymore.
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