I just recently past the year mark of my last post. Time and time again I have thought that maybe I'd add a few words and the timing never felt right and I never had something I felt needed to be said. The year long break started at a transitional time when our third child had recently been added to the bunch. Sleepless nights, adjusting to life with three little ones, and helping three little ones adjust to life with each other, sending my oldest child off to his first day of school (adding many trips to and from), and other numerous tasks and experiences and trials have filled the time.
The past month has felt personally transitional. It has felt transformational. I have felt taught. My heart has been stirred and learning has taken place.
Several weeks back I sat in a doctor's appointment with my 6 year old son. He had been experiencing shooting pains in his head, through his eyes, and sometimes down to his toes. He mentioned that his hands felt "itchy" on the inside and I wondered if he meant that were fuzzy, asleep. Some things were bothering his tummy and he was extra emotional, among a few other ailments. In this case, Google is not your friend. I searched and of course came up with some scary options. Namely one, one really scary one.
Brain tumor.
I often blow things up to a level that is not necessary and I hoped that this was the case this time, more so than ever before because this time it wasn't about me it was about him, my son. As we sat in the office and rattled off symptom after symptom to the doctor it became apparent that my ideas weren't so far fetched. It was an option. The doctor explained that he didn't think it was a brain tumor but with all of his symptoms it needed to be ruled out. An appointment was made for that night to get a CT scan and some blood tests at the hospital.
In the car on the way home, I explained that we would be going to the hospital that night and what would take place. He, of course, did not like the idea. His scope was small. He was worried about the blood tests and I was terrified about the potential outcome. The nurses who were drawing his blood were amazed at how he carried himself. They held his arm but they didn't need to. Not a tear was shed. The CT scan was easy and kind of entertaining to him. I held his hand and he tried to hold still. He was so brave. I was seriously a Mommy kind of impressed. I expected more drama but he was a amazing.
We were told we would probably hear the results back about the CT scan the next day and if we hadn't that we should call in the day after. Of course, I called the next day because I just couldn't wait any longer. I prayed and prayed and prayed. I tried to prepare myself mentally, and emotionally, and spiritually for what could be some major changes in our lives. I thought both about the things that would take place immediately if the results were not in our favor but I also thought about the possible end result. I paced. I waited. I tried not to let my whole world be consumed by not knowing but my day was a day of hoping, praying, and waiting.
I received a phone call from the doctor's office with some of the blood results but no word about the CT scan that the doctor hadn't had a chance to look at yet. I felt like the nurse was TOO nice on the phone and thus the results must not be good. I worried that the reason the nurse didn't tell me the results of the CT scan was because the doctor wanted to talk to me personally. Again, I started to blow things up. The day was long. Definitely the longest day I've had as a Mother and maybe my longest day ever.
Finally nearing the closing hours of the doctor's office I received a phone call and headed to a room to hear the results away from little voices. I was glad to hear a women's voice on the line and not the male voice of the physician and even more glad to hear these words, "He was able to look over the CT scan results and everything was perfectly normal."
Perfectly normal.
I can't even begin to tell you the feelings of relief and pure happiness that came over me as those words were processed. Although this all happened over a 36 hour span between doctor visit, to hospital visit, to results I felt like I had been on an emotional and spiritual journey. Amidst my prayers of hope that everything would be fine with my son I also prayed for faith to face whatever happened. The reminder of what is most important was all so real and the encouragement to be a better Mother, a Mother of children of God was needed and accepted.
Has everything been perfect since. No. Have I immediately become the Mother that I hope to be, of course not. I will continue on my journey. A journey that continued as prophets and apostles spoke to me personally at General Conference and as local leaders the following week shared their insights with me at our Stake Conference. I am trying to remember that that is what life is, a journey and that I need to start where I am. In my journey I hope to fill my life with things that matter most.
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