Thursday, May 23, 2013


I have learned many things in my 5 years of being a Navy wife.  I've learned that the Navy could care less about me or my family.  They don't care that we're having to make some life altering decisions regarding our daughters health and well being (and depending on CNMC's recommendations, we may pull the trigger on surgery without Matthew being home).  
This tour has been miserable.  It's been two solid years of late nights, earlier mornings, ridiculous duty sections, in and out working up to deployment, and now that they're gone...an extension of the hell.  What's another month and a half?  
I'm tired.  My husband has missed two solid years of firsts.  He got 2 days off when E was born, and I felt lucky.  
I feel slightly guilty about raising so much hell and this newfound terrible attitude.  I'm as patriotic as they come.  It's all about duty and country...and all that.  I get it.  I probably understand better than most.  I packed my husband off for a tour in Afghanistan when Parker was 3 days old.  I thought it couldn't get any harder.  Touché, Navy.  Touché.  

Sunday, May 19, 2013

Go Fontan Yourself

I've written before about how terrible the experience of handing over a child for open heart surgery is.  It's miserable.  The Norwood was hard because Caroline  was tiny.  Being three days postpartum, walking beside her tiny body to deliver her to the surgeons was one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do.  
The Glenn brought its own pain and anxiety.  Handing that sweet girl over didn't get any easier because we had done it before.  I remember pushing an empty stroller out of that pre-op room and for hours I could still smell her.  
Waiting for news is a different story.  Sitting and waiting is hard.  The time runs together.  The minutes drag by and your mind wanders to dark places.  You sit next to laughing families waiting for their children getting their tonsils out, wondering how its possible at all that the world isn't standing still.  All of these memories surround me these days.  They're my constant companion as we prepare for the Fontan.  In many ways its more difficult.  She can communicate her discomfort.  We have enjoyed our stolen time with this spirited girl.  Will the outcome be the same?