He Takes My Heart With Him

Forgetting

It's amazing. For the past year, there have been appointments and surgeries looming in the distance, and you never quite fully forget that they are there. I would have different times, during the day and night, where I would feel panicked. My chest would tighten and my stomach would clench up. I would start breathing faster and I would feel terrified. On really good days, I'd even have to take a minute and try to remember why I was scared. On bad days, I would know immediately. My Jack, my baby, was going to have major surgery.

Now, the surgery is over. Except for the long, thin, purple line down his spine, no one would guess what he's been through. He laughs and plays and turned one year old. He grows, I think, by the minute. I look at him . . . and I'm forgetting. Forgetting the heartache and the fear. Forgetting the hurt. Sometimes, I wonder why I even got so scared. Isn't that amazing? What a blessing the Lord gives us that He can do this.

I got my pictures back from when Jack was in the hospital for surgery. I was sitting in the van, leafing through the packs, when I found them. A picture of Jack, sleeping in the crib in the hospital hotel room. I took that so if anything happened, I would have pictures of the last times we were together. (Oh, that hurts.) A picture of Jack, lying in the red wagon, under his blanket, looking up at us, as he was wheeled away for surgery. Jack in his hospital crib, right after surgery. Wires and tubes sneaking out from under the blanket as he sleeps. A picture of my husband holding Jack, the first day after surgery. Jack's eyes are heavy-lidded and he looks dazed. The drain tube and bulb snake out of Jack's back and rest on my husband's leg. He looks so little in the pictures. So fragile. It reminds me of the fear. It brings it back.

I look through them once, quickly, and then go through them, again, slowly. I'm crying by the time I finish. I close up the pack and place them on the stack. I say a prayer to God for the gift He has given us. I am . . . relieved. I am blessed. I am loved.

And I know I won't look at those pictures again for a long time.