Impatiently Waiting for our Miracle(s)

Oh my gosh, y’all. Where do I start? I know I’ve left you all hanging on Reid’s liver “situation”. But we were waiting for news. Which I think will be the name of the game. But I’m so happy to share that yesterday we found out he was approved for the liver transplant list!! Great news! First step, done. Now we wait on our insurance company to verify one more thing (a formality), and then Reid will go back in for more bloodwork to determine where he’ll be placed on the list. Then we wait some more. The last couple of weeks have been full of information. Two weeks ago, we went in for all of the testing and meetings that are required in order to be on the transplant list. During the 2 day process, we met with a financial counselor, a cardiologist, a dietician, the transplant surgeon, the nurse practitioner, the transplant coordinator, and a social worker. All of those were on the transplant “team”. Reid had 20 vials of blood drawn, a bone density scan, an EKG, a panorex scan, a c...

I had no idea this was a thing. I wish it wasn’t. I wish there wasn’t a reason to have an International Bereaved Mother’s Day. But I saw it in my news feed today. So there it is – today is International Bereaved Mother’s Day. I’ve been struggling with Mother’s Day approaching, and how I feel about it. I struggle with calling myself a “mother”. A “bereaved mother”, yes. But a “mother”… there’s some grey area there, at least in my mind. I haven’t had sleepless nights due to an infant crying and waking up for feedings. I haven’t set up a nursery. I haven’t nursed a baby. I haven’t gone through labor. But still, I feel like I am a mother. I have planned for a child’s life. I have cried tears of happiness because I have so much love for the tiny human inside of me. I have felt the pregnancy pains. I have taken naps on the couch because my body is working so hard to create life. I have worried about my child’s health. So “bereaved mother” is fitting. And I’ll take this day as my “mother...

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve felt like I’m walking around with a backpack full of weights. Literally. I fall asleep on the couch every evening, I am constantly worrying, and I just feel defeated. But I’m working on changing that. I’m trying my hardest to pull myself out of it… to put on my “big girl” panties and deal with it. I know I can. I know I need to remain positive. I sat down to make a list of my worries. But instead, I’m choosing to make a list of my hopes. After all, “worrying is stupid. It’s like walking around with an umbrella waiting for it to rain.” (Wiz Khalifa) I hope that my husband, Reid, gets a liver soon. And recovers well from the liver transplant. I hope that his health significantly improves from a liver transplant, and his PSC does not come back. I hope that I never have to utter the words “Reid has cancer” to anyone. Ever. I hope that he is that 10%... I mean, we do seem to hit the small odds. I hope that Reid and I are able to h...