An Anticipated Sunday

Day 110:

As I sit here listening to the bluesy rock sounds of Jimi Hendrix, I'm fighting through a spot of the blues myself, Conor.  Knowing this day has been coming since not long after we left the NICU, I've not been willing to so much as think about this day for fear of how it'll make me feel.  For tomorrow morning you'll be undergoing a surgery to correct an Inguinal Hernia.  And you know Boy'O, modern medicine affords us much.  In fact, without modern medicine your very existence would have been in jeopardy!  Certainly I'm thankful for all that's given to us as we move forward in the age of Aquarius; the age of science.  And for all we've heard about how common this procedure is and how little concern we should give to the outcome, none of it matters.

Tomorrow we're going to be trusting your life to the hands of people we don't know in a hospital we've never visited.  I've no doubt the fine folks at Children's Hospital in Washington DC, one of the very best Pediatric Hospitals in the World, will do a superb job.  None at all.  But the thought of not being there to hold your hand while they anesthetize you, or what the procedure entails in so far as the incision, the operation itself, and putting it all back together... The thought of having to make even the tiniest cut into your otherwise perfect little body... Well frankly, it's eating me up.

Like any parent, you just don't realize what having a child actually means until that child is resting safely in your arms.  You also don't realize how absolutely selfless you can be with regard to wanting everything for your child no matter the cost, right up and through your child ever experiencing an inkling of pain.  And this is not machismo, Boy'O, but I promise you, if your hernia could be corrected by my having to endure the same surgery without a gram of pain medication, I'd do it.  And I'd never give it a second thought...

I don't mean to be so dramatic, Son.  I've now spoken with about a half dozen parents who've had a child endure the very same and they all say the same thing, "it's harder on you than it will be on him." and "it's quite common, Conor's going to be fine!" and while I appreciate the words of encouragement, there is just nothing that will ever take away my feeling of "dammit..................."
And I've not even mentioned your Mother - she worries twice as much as I do...

I have all the faith in the World you're going to be just fine, Conor.  I really truly do.  But my faith can't take away my angst.  My faith can't take away my feeling of needing to be there to hold you and be sure you're okay.  My faith can't heal you.  Though I do know, Conor the Lion Heart can take it.  And by late tomorrow morning I'll be looking upon your bright blue eyes, problem solved, healing begun, and I'll breathe again. Mommy too.

God bless you, Conor.  I love you Boy'O, and I'll be right there for you, I promise.
-Dad