It is the unknown that is terrifying. Not knowing what happens next, what comes next. It is the lack of any true tangible knowledge or fact or decision that can drive a person close to madness. When you have the knowledge, you are prepared. And when you are prepared, you have the strength.
Most times when it feels like it’s so bleak, it’s because we don’t have the right information. We are placed in a realm of what ifs and what not and it makes it difficult to function because you play every possible scenario (usually the worst) in your head.
It isn’t that I numb my feelings. I still worry and fear and spend my nights struggling to fall asleep because I’m trying to stay away from that dark dark path. Yesterday as I stood waiting to brave a heavy downpour to get a new pump, I told myself I was doing this for Little H. Little H is my source of strength and whatever courage I need to face this.
With cold and soggy shoes and feet I made the journey. I realised the past weeks I was a little afraid to venture to the hospital on my own. I leaned on the strength of the husband, of others. In the midst of several wake up talks, it dawned on me. If I kept depending on others, how can my son depend on me?
Today, although I brought my aunt and cousins in to see my son, I did not leave when they did. I chose to stay because my little boy needs me. Even if I cannot be inside there when they drain his chest or do whatever else that needs to be done, he should know that I’m still around. That I can be around, alone, for him to depend on.
Only for you son.