We are just returning from a week away in the mountains. How absolutely wonderful it was to be away for so long and not worry about the day to day happenings all around us. Even though we had rather sick kiddos for the first half of the trip (the baby had Hand, Foot, Mouth Disease and Strep Throat and Ms. Priss had HFM) it was wonderful. My mind hardly ever wandered to the upcoming surgery until yesterday. . .
It hit me all of a sudden. The fear and anxiety that I had been feeling returned with a vengeance. Once again, plans have changed and with that comes a sense of uneasiness. I find myself once again questioning and wondering why me. I look around and want to scream I am too young for this. I want to run and hide and wake up to realize this is a bad dream. I so badly do not want this to be my reality. . .
But it is my reality. The reality that this surgery needs to occur. That a part of me is sick and needs to come out just as an appendix or gallbladder would. Only this is so different. This was my babies home. This is something that makes me uniquely a woman. This is my womb. . .
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