Fear

I have never been so afraid in my entire life.  Even though the prognosis is good, and the doctors are very optimistic, I know there is still so much uncertainty.  I look down at my sweet boy's little face and am so very scared for him.

He is still able to smile and laugh, but I can see already how this experience has affected him.  He's content to be carried with his head looking back over my shoulder, where before now he had insisted that he be carried facing forward.  If someone else is holding him, he frequently seeks me out with his eyes, and gets upset if he can't see me - a little young for separation anxiety, but I guess the stress of this week is getting to him, too.

We did get the oncologist to write an order to let us go outside, so yesterday we went for two walks out in the suddenly perfect summer weather.  Last night on our walk I couldn't help but think of what a great walk we'd be having in his super cool stroller if the MRI had turned out differently; I've been looking forward to cooler evenings so we could start going for long walks before bed.

We pass people in the halls who all comment, "what a cute baby" and then I see the sympathy in their eyes when they notice his hospital bracelet.  I see sick babies and children in the rooms around me, and their tired and stressed parents and feel sorry for them, and then feel the shock of realizing that I'm one of them.

This feels like a horrible nightmare that I just can't wake up from.  Finn gets an IV today so they can give him the contrast for his scans on Wednesday and Thursday.  I remember Claire saying how general anesthesia quickly became a nonissue for her when Fiona was so sick last year, and now I'm surprised to discover I feel the same way.  I'm not at all worried about his anesthesia for tomorrow, I'm just worried about how difficult it is going to be for them to start an IV on him today; I hope they get it on the first try and that he doesn't hurt too much from it.