It's been a few months since I've posted a blog. I prefer to reflect on my situations instead of post in real time, I think your perspective is clearer or at least mine is. I'm not quite ready to relive our emotions of surgery yet, but I do have some experiences I would like to share.
First of all, having a sick baby, who is your only child, is way different then having a sick child with 2 other children to worry about.
When Rebecca was born we were offered a room at the Ronald McDonald house. We declined it for multiple reasons. One of the reasons was that I felt strongly that since I have a home in Tampa and there are many families from out of town that could use that room, it would be selfish of me to take that room. Now looking back it was the best decision since Rebecca was in the NICU for 3 months, but I'm not sure that I agree with the reasoning I used back then.
This time around the first thing I did after Rebecca's surgery was scheduled was call the Ronald McDonald house. Knowing we would be in St. Pete for about a week and 2 littles that still needed mommy and daddy, I knew this would be the best option.
Fast-forward to July 16th.... Rebecca was out of surgery about 4:30pm and it was going to be a long night in the PICU. Hannah and Leah were only allowed to visit for a short period of time in there and since Leah was still nursing we couldn't ship her off to grandma's house. The Ronald McDonald house was right across the street. We could walk there. I can't tell you how much this blessed our family. Each night Josh would leave with Leah and they would sleep at the RMD house and I would stay at the hospital with Rebecca. He would bring Leah back early in the morning so I could nurse her. This was our routine for our entire stay at the hospital.
During the day I would go over to the RMD house to take showers and freshen up. This is when things would change for me. There is something in the air at the RMD house. A heaviness, a sadness and also a feeling of support. The families that are staying there are not on vacation. Although the rooms are very "hotelish" and nice, when you are there it is very evident you are not at a hotel. It is quiet and somber. Every time I stepped foot on the property of the RMD house, the emotions would start to well up in the pit of my gut. I fought tears every time I was there. Sometimes in the shower I would cave into my feelings and cry. The strange thing was, I wasn't emotional about Rebecca's current situation, I was emotional about the past, the beginning. I couldn't believe we were here 12 years later. She made it! She is alive! All of those things the doctors told us could happen when she was born, she had overcome. It was nothing I had done, only what God had done. Every time I walked up to RMD house I fell at the foot of the cross, grateful and thankful that God loved Rebecca so much. But I also accepted what could have happened and that is why I cried. As a mama you have to be strong. You can't sit around and cry because your baby might die. No! You have to fight! Up until this surgery I had never allowed myself to feel the pain of a mother who might lose her baby. It was sad....that's all I have to say about that.
