Peanut’s Smile

  Surgery day always makes me want to turn around and run the other way. No matter how many times we’ve done this, it never gets easier. I always find myself fighting that quiet voice that whispers   this is my fault. It breaks my heart to see Peanut in pain, to know that I have to hand him over and trust that he’ll be okay. I place him in the anesthesiologist’s arms, give one last kiss, and whisper a prayer that he feels safe, even when I can’t be with him. Then comes the waiting room, a room full of emotional parents, each one silently praying for a quick but safe surgery. You can feel the tension, the fear, the hope all tangled together. One by one, families get called back, reunited with their little ones, and the room grows emptier. Each time another parent walks out with relief on their face, I’m happy for them, but I also feel that sting in my chest. I want it to be my turn. I just want to see my baby.

  The night before surgery is probably the worst night ever. It’s like Christmas Eve, except instead of excitement, it’s anxiety that fills your stomach. I can never sleep. Every possible scenario floods my mind as I toss and turn, begging my brain to rest. This time, it’s hitting me harder. Peanut doesn’t really understand what’s coming. We spent today having fun, trying to keep things light and normal, but tomorrow we’ll walk him down that long hallway and hand him over to the surgical team. He’ll wake up in pain, swollen and confused, and I can’t explain why. I know it’s necessary, but knowing that doesn’t make it easier. I don’t know why God allows little babies to endure so much. I spend the night pleading for understanding, wondering if I ever will. The night before surgery is the worst night. But as I watch him sleep, I’m reminded how brave he is, and how steady God’s hand has been through it all. Tomorrow will bring hard moments, but it will also bring healing. And tonight,...

  My baby is turning one, and my mind is racing like crazy. I love the boy he’s turning into, but my little baby is no more. From newborn to toddler happens way too fast. Those first few months they need you constantly, but before you know it, they’re rolling over, crawling, walking, and starting to talk. They grow in independence and begin to play on their own. Where did the time go? I love watching his personality shine brighter each day, but I miss the snuggles and endless cuddles. I’ve grown so much in the past year too—it takes a lot to be a parent and to grow through postpartum. It’s hard to embrace all the change that happens in just 12 months, because time truly feels like a thief. But even as time keeps moving, I’m grateful for every stage—every giggle, every milestone, every moment that’s made me his mama.