We wait. And wait. And wait.
Last night was the longest of my life. I forced myself to lie down because all I wanted to do was stand and watch my baby sleep. I feared sleep. It was the enemy. I knew that if I drifted to sleep I would have to wake up and realize this nightmare all over again. It was too painful.
Thankfully, Marjorie slept very well and awoke restless at 4:30am. I rocked her for three hours and then took turns with her daddy. He is struggling, as we all are, to wrap his head around this. What happened? We keep muttering to each other over and over. His baby girl, his only daughter, is hurting.
Doctors came in to let us know we were going down for the 10am CT Scan. We took Marjorie to the OR and as we handed her to the anesthesia doctor and nurse, we crumbled, literally, to the floor. I collapsed into Jordan’s arms and we sobbed together. Cries of fear, anguish and a love so big it physically hurt.
We came back to our room and tried to rest our tired bodies and mind. Marjorie returned at 11:30am groggy and hungry.
Now it is 1:00pm. The room is quiet except for the hum of her IV. She is asleep in her car seat. She was tired of being held so we made her car seat a comfy and secure bed. Jordan is next to me on the couch, eyes closed, hands together. I know he is not sleeping, but neither one of us have anything left. No more words or cries. We just hold our breath.
As for me, I do the only thing I know. I write. I rock Marjorie and hum to her. I pray for patience as these minutes go by at glacier speed. I pray my girl is comfortable and that Jordan and I can dig up the strength to get through whatever is to come in these next few hours.
Please continue to lift Marjorie up in thought and prayer.
With love, light and gratitude…