Let the worrying begin

Here I go again with my major worries and fears, and again, they are for good reasons, but there are others with so many more serious issues (like little Eli who is going to have open heart surgery really soon). I am so afraid of this whole g-button thing. I do not want Micah to have to go through anymore surgery, but here we are. I have the confidence in this being the right thing to do, especially since Micah has been about the same weight for the last year! That is just disgusting to me. I just looked back in his journal and at his 9 month appointment he was 17.5 lbs and in the 10th percentile...now he is 18.5 lbs and below the chart. So, I know that this is the right thing to do, I just need to explain that to my head and my heart...I don't want this. I am one big disaster...that is about all I can say.

I want out

I want out of this heart world. I am exhausted. I find myself saying how unfair this is and I don't even have as sick of a baby as so many others out there. I feel guilty that I am being this way...look at how lucky I am. I have three beautiful children...the sick one is still doing terrific in the eyes of his cardiologist, so why do I fear for his life every single day? Why do I wonder if he is going to be taken from me way too soon? I don't fear this with the older two...maybe I should? I don't know. I worry...I always have worried, but not like this. I think that as I am approaching the two year mark of living this life of constant worry, I am finding myself as a person I never expected to know. Why have I learned all this medical crap? I wanted to be a doctor a long, long time ago, but even as late as in high school, the most medical I ever wanted was psychiatry. As much as I admire and respect all the other heart families I have met...I wish I could turn back time and never have entered this world. Why did I take that damn medicine when I knew in my heart I was pregnant? I know, it is not rational that I did this to him, but what if I did? What if I have single handedly destroyed this beautiful, lovable, almost perfect little person who struggles every single day to gain weight and who has had to endure more procedures and surgeries than his own mother and father combined? I want to not be a heart mom anymore. I want to return to my life of not even knowing that there were pediatric cardiologists, pediatric GI docs, pulmonologists, urologists, genetics doctors and so many more in the world...to a day when I did not even know that there were such things as feeding tubes, nebulizers and RSV. I want to return to the life where I had never heard of three babies dying within one month of each other and finding myself crying over them, even though I had only met one in person. I want to return to my last pregnancy and be able to enjoy it instead of worry and cry constantly not knowing if he was going to be born alive, or if that beautiful boy would not be strong enough to fight. I look at him (and the other two wonders in my life) and I am so thankful...but do I have to be thankful for the heart defect? I really don't think I do have to be thankful for it. I also do not think that I am strong enough to pull myself through this. I look at myself in the mirror and I no longer see happiness...I see a scared woman who is always angry and sad. I want to be happy and I want to see all of my babies thrive and be successful. That was my every intention in this motherhood thing, and now, I do not know if I did them any justice.