Playing It by Ear

Bonnie is having tubes put in her ears tomorrow.

Both ears. Bilaterally.

That is the extent of my fancy talk regarding the procedure. I don't know what the real name of the surgery is.

I call it "the scariest thing that has happened since the OB told me Jack had to be born two months early." Or, you know, tubes surgery for short.

Whatever, same thing.

I want to throw up and die when I think of her going under anesthesia.

Basically because that is one of the things I'm afraid will happen to her.

I know it's a routine procedure.

I know kids go through it all the time.

I know kids go through much worse and I have no room to complain when I'm basically electing to have this surgery for her.

I know that some people think I'm doing the wrong thing by electing to put her through it.

I know other people think I'm doing the best thing, the only thing that will keep her from getting so sick and maybe help her talk.

I know it's not abnormal for some kids to have no words at 16 months and maybe Bon is just a late bloomer rather than delayed with hearing issues.

I know all this. And it makes me tired.

Because that is how my body reacts to stress. I crave sleep.

And mozzarella sticks. But I'm abstaining on both counts.

I should go to bed. 5:15 will come so early and it's no secret that morning is not my time to shine.

I'm afraid to lay down though.

Because when I do, I will think. And think and think and think.

Think about all the Bad Things that can happen tomorrow. Things that won't happen. But they could.

I know all about unlikely, about small margins, about the exceptions to the rules.

How I wish I didn't.

Look at her. She is so sweet, so lovely, so perfect.

I like that she doesn't talk. It keeps her my baby for just a little bit longer.

Yes, I am a selfish person for thinking that but not so selfish that I'd refuse the procedure. So we're doing it. In 7 hours.

No more high fevers, helpless shrieking, wracking pain.

She'll be able to hear my voice clearly, listen to her sister's singing and her brother's jokes, hear Daddy tell her how she is his best baby girl. All of which she may or may not hear clearly now anyway.

sigh

I can't wait for it to be tomorrow night so I can feel like a dumbass for worrying about 1,504,726 Bad Things that didn't happen.

But for now, bed and 1,504,726 Bad Things, here I come.