Grief

One week. It's already been a week since we found out Grant couldn't see. It has been the LONGEST week of my life. I think about his baby blues constantly, and I hold him constantly. I told Wayne last Tuesday that I felt like I went through the five stages of grief in less than twenty four hours. The thing that stinks is I go through them every day. I was reading Jack's mom's blog and she talks about how she went through the exact same thing, and we felt many of the same emotions.

Denial. I feel like I start every single day like this. Thinking, "It must be a bad dream." I keep hoping the doctor will call and tell me it's a miracle, and Grant's eyes have healed themselves. It's just hard knowing that only 1 in every 10, 000 children are born with cataracts, and ours just happens to be one of them. We are the only patient of our pediatrician's going through this. He only has one other patient with a vision disorder. His nurse, who has been a pediatric nurse for 30 years, didn't know infants could get cataracts. Our pharmacist knew it was possible, but had never seen a baby with cataracts. I KNOW God could miraculously heal Grant's eyes if He so desired, but I feel through lots of prayers Him preparing us for this journey.

Anger. At some point every single day I have to fight back anger. Anger at myself. It's so hard for me to convince myself that it's not my fault. Anger at others. It frustrates me when people with perfectly healthy babies tell me NOT to worry. Really? I know they mean well, but you can't tell a mama not to worry about her baby that can't see!!

Bargaining. If I have said it once I have said it a million times. "I would give Grant my eyes in a heartbeat if I could. I wouldn't think twice. I WISH I could go through this for him."

Depression. This has hit me like a ton of bricks. I cry daily. Sometimes hourly. I hold this sweet baby 24/7. Literally. The ONLY time he isn't in my arms is when I go to the bathroom, fix his bottles, or if someone else is loving on him. I even sleep in the recliner every single night with him. The only thing that can bring him comfort at times is touch, and I just want him to KNOW that I'm there all the time.

Acceptance. I know Grant needs this surgery. I know he needs the glasses. Bless him. His frustration with not being able to see has grown over the last week. He has cried a lot. Sometimes the only thing that makes it better is light, being that is the only thing he can see. I sit in a well lit house with blinds open all day.

Like I've said, I so wish I could take this away, but I can't. Since I can't, I just want the next few weeks of surgery and getting use to the glasses and drops to pass quickly. We started one of the drops yesterday, and he HATES it. I'm hoping he gets use to it soon because it's going to be a while before we don't have to put several drops in his eyes.

Jacob is at my parents house for two nights. I wanted to be able to sit and hold Grant guilt free for the two days before his surgery. And Jacob really needed some special attention. I know I say this with every post, but I really, really mean it. Thank you all for all the prayers. They are definitely felt. Keep them coming through his first surgery Wednesday morning,