Friday, May 29, 2015
The day is here. The moment is now. The very time that we dreaded the most and tried our hardest to avoid is presently our reality. We arrived at the hospital at 6 am to prep for surgery at 7:15. Everything went smoothly and Jackson was a champ getting ready for it all. The doctors gave him some medication to make him drowsy and then told us it was time.
There was a moment where time stood still and even a brief second that I wanted to tell them I wasn't going to give him up. He's ours. My sweet and innocent baby that is in part my own heartbeat. I looked at him; his perfect blonde curly locks and soft skin kissed cheeks. He is perfect. In every sense of the way he is the most perfect gift that we have been able to love on for the last 3 and half years.
You have those thoughts that creep in that tell you it may be the last hug, last kiss, last snuggle, last everything. But then you suppress those thoughts and smile in his eyes because it's been a beautiful ride. An incredible journey and you know that no matter what happens next you have done everything you can. You've embraced the days, you've spent the time, you've laughed more, played hard, and just lived life.
And then you feel every emotion you possibly can. You feel joy as the memories dart across your mind, you feel pain for the road that lies ahead, and then you feel overwhelming peace. A peace that we expected, that we knew would be there. Because the God we serve has promised us that he will never leave us. We are walking and living the very promise that we can have been clinging to in Philippians 4:6-7.
"Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus."
Then you pass off your baby into the arms of a stranger and watch them swiftly carry him away from you to fight his biggest fight. You smile and wave and walk to the nearest bathroom and collapse in the arms of your husband and feel like every bit of your body is being crushed. You almost feel like the life is being sucked out of you... and it kind of is. You cry and then you breathe and you unlock the door. You take a step, the same step you took the day after the diagnosis. One slow step and you just know that God's got it. He's always had it and He always will. And that makes each step away from the OR a little stronger.
Thank you Jesus that in the middle of the holding room for surgery and in the waiting room you are giving us peace that is beyond anything we could have comprehended.We are standing firm that the best is yet to come for our sweet boy! Now it's time to wait, cry, and trust. Another 4-8 hours before surgery is done. It's a road we never wanted to walk, but any life no matter what it looks like with Jackson is extraordinary. I am so glad God chose us to love on him. He's pretty special! One step at a time!