It is always suspended in the air, isn't it? Precariously perched, waiting...just waiting for the opportune time to drop. When do I quit worrying about that stupid shoe? When does life come to the point that I don't worry anymore? I know...once a parent you never stop worrying. However, this is an unhealthy amount of worry. Although at times it does become less, when it does come back it just hits me like a ton of bricks and consumes my entire being.
The funeral plans...yes, I have planned Em's funeral time and time again. At one time it was a potential reality. Now...why do the thoughts come creaping back into my head? Why do I feel the need to go in and lay next to her every night just to hear her breathing? Rub her soft hair just to feel the warmth?
The fear of rejection....we are 4 1/2 years post transplant and she has never (knocking hard on wood) been in rejection. However, the fear never leaves my mind. The fear of losing this liver..the liver that has given her life....and us hope. The fear that if she does lose this liver that she will not be deamed adequate to receive another transplant.
The thoughts of something being wrong with Owen. Although I know that he is healthy and thriving. The fear still creeps in that something still could go wrong. Why does he continue to get conjested? Knowing that it must be that he is aspirating (I know that he is probably not...but the irrational side of me feels this way).
I have always been one to worry, but given the circumstances of the last 5 years...my worry tends to consume my life at times. Sure, I put on the face to all who pass me by that all is well. But, as I walk tall with my head held high in the air, please watch for the occassional flinch, the odd ducking motion that I may make. It is that shoe that I see...just hanging there...suspended for only my eye to see.
Waiting...waiting....waiting. Oh please, dear shoe, go take a jog! Please leave me alone. I do not want to ever see or feel you drop again.