And still, we wait.
I thought I was handling things so beautifully today. Just another day. Just another step. I cleaned and cleaned this morning, putting my energy elsewhere. But every time the phone rang my heart jumped up in my throat.
We took a cleaning break before our school time to visit our birthing home. We were there to pick up a gorgeous box of fresh fruit a friend had gifted us. It was so nice to be in that sweet space again, with people I love. When I was pregnant with Benjamin, Banyan would feed the koi fish in the pond outside after each prenatal appointment. Benjamin fed those same fish today, standing much taller than his brother did then. I saw so much time fly past me.
Michael came home early so we could (potentially) speak to the doctor together. We left two messages at the clinic right when Dr. Grana told us to. Then we waited. And waited. Finally, just before 5:00pm, the phone rang. I took the call outside and put it on speaker so Michael could hear, leaving Benjamin inside to play. As soon as we heard the voice of one of our nurses on the other line, I knew the results weren’t in yet. They have to be delivered by a physician. So the rest was small talk. We will call again in the morning, and throughout the day tomorrow, until we learn what the flow cytometer saw–or didn’t see–in Benjamin’s bone marrow.
I was on edge for the rest of the afternoon. I was angry with myself for feeling disappointed. Last time we waited for days. I should know better by now than to have expectations. Also, even with the cleaning and the koi pond and the schoolwork and the other distractions of the day, I was carrying a great big ball of anticipation around with me. I’d succumbed to the idea that I’d be able to let it go, and I can’t now. It gets heavier the longer I hold it.
Last time we were in this waiting space, I thoroughly researched “the next phase” we were hoping for. We know that the path we were given instead is the one Benjamin needed to walk. But my expectations made that new path seem scary and jagged, instead of right and good. This time, I have intentionally tried not to think or talk about what’s next. But it’s becoming really tricky. In one possible scenario, “what’s next” could be admission into the hospital for several days, beginning as early as Friday. Still, I won’t pack our bags. I won’t do anything that leads my vision in one direction or the other. We will wait for the call. Whatever words we hear, we will trust that they lead to the right path. The healing path.
COOL KID, BEAUTIFUL MAMA, AWESOME T-SHIRT 😉 <3
Sending you so much love. Waiting is the worst, but I am visualizing you answering the phone and receiving the news you want. Love you, brave mama.
❤️
Anticipation – I couldn’t help but see the parallels to the birth process. Ironic that you visited the birthing place yesterday. Praying you can put down the heaviness of anticipation and are lifted up with light and love from all who love and support you on this journey. Praying for great results on the labs
Laura: What a gorgeous picture of you and Benji. You are one of the most beautiful women I know–inside and out.
Love,
Sonia
Praying for the healing path.
I hope everything turns out good for y’all today!! Love & Prayers still coming ur way for my strong lil man & the rest of my big family!! Luv u guys
I hope everything turns out good for y’all today!! Luv u guys
I read your article Signing Off , I was in tears by the end of it . You and your family are going through so much . I use to draw blood in a hospital in New York , what use to break my heart was seeing the kids that were sick .
YOUR SON BENJAMIN IS A HERO IN MY EYES .
We also have a son that’s seven years old , I shared your article with him , especially when you wrote ” each of us who answer to the name ” Mommy ” shares the understanding of what it means to watch the rise and fall of our children’s chests as they sleep.
I said to my son, see when your a great writer you can touch so many people .
You have a gift never stop writing !!
Giovanna Mastroianni and Family