Freaking Out

So in my last post earlier tonight I wrote about tomorrows surgery plans.  During the day, in the midst of the hustle and bustle of ekg's, echos, blood pressure checks and pre op instructions I am ok. I go into auto pilot. I listen to the risk of a stroke, cardiac arrest, blood clots, to much pressure to the lungs, death... While I hear it I don't grasp it until the sun sets, the world quiets and I am alone. Right now I am alone and I feel that at any moment I may vomit. My stomach is in knots so tight I can barely breathe.  I try to calm. I close my eyes to try and rest and all I see is my beautiful boy and fear paralyzes me.  Fear that the worst could happen to us. Why not? Life picks some of the most amazing people to do the most awful things to, so why not us... I cannot stop the tears.  I hate that he is oblivious to his day tomorrow and yet I love that just the same.  I want to take this all away from him and do it myself so he never has to feel another needle stick him, another scalpel cut him open or feel any sort of pain.  Maybe I would feel better if I just threw up.  Dangit, you never expect this journey when you find out you are pregnant.  You never in your wildest dreams think it will be you.  You think you know fear until you have a baby and realize you have no control over the outcome of his life. I don't know how I will hand him over tomorrow.  This isn't even the open heart and yet I  am a mess. I wax and wane between the panic that what I am feeling is mother's intuition or sheer fear.  I beg and grovel at God's feet.  I sob. I shake.  I tap. Anything to keep moving. My baby. My sweet sweet angel of a boy.  

If I wasn't in some town I don't know I would run and run and run until my body just gave in to the exhaustion that consumes it.  Instead I sit here in this bed and type because my mind can't play tricks on me if I am busy.  My head is pounding. The adrenaline is searing through my body and I can do nothing with it but sit here.  My heart is pounding with the what if's and yet I can envision us in the car driving home.  While I know He never gives us more than we can handle, dammit I am pushed to the edge right now.  I have been to this edge before and I will be there tomorrow and again after that, God willing.  It's such a tricky place to be, the edge that is. A place of terror and strength.  A place of anger and hope.  A place of panic and peace...

I beg of sleep to find its way to me.  I beg of peace to settle on my heart as the sun rises in the morning. I beg of it to be cold so that when I walk outside the air will numb me.  I beg of God to bring Paxton through this surgery so he can then get through the next one so he can be stronger than he already is.  

I beg of this to all be behind us.