Waiting.

the family surgery waiting room is a strange place.

There are some people playing cards. Some watching TV. Some are splashing themselves with water from the water fountain. Some look like they have moved in.

It is a weird little microcosm of the world at large.

But we are all tied together by one thing – our babies are in sterile cold rooms somewhere beyond these four walls. And while we may all seem ok on the surface, we are all nervous. We are all tied together by our hopes and our fears, and the jumpiness that occurs like shockwaves whenever anyone in scrubs enters the room, scanning for the right parents to talk to.

Kendall is in the hands of the doctors now.

I somehow managed to kiss her forehead, squblog3 eeze her floppy little body one last time, breathe her kendall smell in, and put her in Jesus’ hands. I sang her a little bit of “Three Little Birds”, and i got a very loopy grin out of her. And then Ben kissed her. And then they wheeled her away. I am sure she is in good hands. The surgeon was very personable and was very good to explain why she is putting the port where she is (it’s so that some day she can wear an underwire bra, or maybe even a bikini without the scar or the port itself if she still needs it, showing through.) Very thoughtful.

We got to see and feel and touch and squeeze a port like the one that will be put into Kendall. We had a lot of good information given to us about the port and its care. From a head knowledge standpoint, we’re about as tanked up as you can get.

and yet, it still all comes down to Kendall, and her body’s ability to accept the port. To metabolize the anesthesia drugs ok. To wake back up and breathe on her own again (she gets a breathing tube put in when she is under anesthesia).

So we sit here in this strange little world, drinking coke out of “barium dispenser cups” that must be leftovers or something. And we wait.

And we jump everytime someone comes near the door in blue scrubs, scanning for other parents.

We know in hopefully a few more minutes that they will scan for us, and come tell us she is waking up ok and we can go back and sit with her.

Thank you for praying. Your prayers are bringing desperately needed Peace that we cling to. Your prayers are guiding the surgeon and more importantly the anesthesiologist who is holding Kendall’s life in his hands, using various drugs to find a good balance of what works with Kendall’s crazy little system. We know he is earning his salary today with her in there.

Waiting.

Hoping.

Praying.

 

terra

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