Tomorrow we head out of the house at 6:30 a.m. for our drive up north (2 1/2 hours or so) to meet the surgeon who will be examining our newborn baby girl. I wish I could describe this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. It is turning over and over in a terrible way. Part of me wants to eat a tub of ice-cream (unfortunately, we have some butter pecan right now) and part of me wants to vomit and the last part of me just wants to cry. Is it fear? Uh, I think it is fear mixed with some good measure of anxiety. Plus, we are driving to a place we've never been to before. Will we get lost? Will we make the appointment on time? I really can't stand to be late to stuff like this and the anticipation of it makes me nervous.
Well, it's not just the drive, but the appointment itself. Why are we always so scared of the unknown? Well, I sort of know surgery is in the future for my sweet baby, but how many? She got her foot pricked for the PKU testing this week and she cried. I was nursing her at the time too. This did not help. I said, "Oh, baby and you have much worse in store for you." I should not have said this because I could not get her little crying face (still can't) out of my mind. Will she hurt much during and after the surgery? Will she cry in pain afterwards? Will she be in so much pain that she can't even cry? This is what I dread. I wish it was me instead.
How did Heavenly Father do it when he saw his son on the cross dying? I don't know. How does he handle all the horrors mankind does to each other? I imagine mine is just a microscopic sampling of how he feels on a day to day basis.