No one knows.
It's the truth. It's my daily reality. It's the source of all my hope. It's the source of all my worry.
No one knows.
No one can tell me a single thing about Baby's chances.
I know. I know. It shouldn't matter. I will love Little Angel no matter what. At the very least, Little Angel will grace our presence and leave us with a legacy in which we have become stronger.
I know I can fight any battle presented before us.
It's what I don't know.
That's my truth. That's my daily reality. It's the thoughts slipping in the back of my mind. It's the what ifs. It's the variables.
It's the what ifs keeping me awake at night. It's the what ifs making life hard.
It's what I don't know that worries me.
I've always been a planner. A Queen of Organizing if you will. A girl on a mission. A place for everything. Always wanting to know what's going on next. Trying to plan for whatever next is.
When we first found out Little Angel probably wouldn't make it, it was hard. However, I could come to terms with that scenario. Have a baby, send a baby to heaven, grieve, move on, always remember there's someone watching over us from Above. Not a simple process at all, but one I understand. One I can get through.
Now however, we find out Baby has a chance at life. I should be elated about this. I should be estactic about this. Should. The operative word in the sentence.
Don't get me wrong. I am overjoyed. I am excited. I am hopeful things aren't as bad as they seem. I pray a string of Hail Mary's every day hoping for a baby with proper brain and internal organ development. A happy Baby who will grow and thrive.
Then comes the worry in the back of my mind. I know I should not think the worst. After all, plan for the worst, hope for the best. Again, SHOULD.
The should part is hard. The should hurts my heart. The should jumbles my thinking. It raises so many questions, so many concerns.
How long will Baby survive?
What issues will Baby have?
What treatments are available for Baby to thrive?
What if Baby does have strong impairments inhibiting a normal life?
If Baby survives, would Little Angel have been better off an Angel of Heaven instead of an Angel of Earth?
What I can't plan. What I can't fix. What doctors can't tell me. What keeps me awake at night. What brings me to tears alone in the car. What the Queen of Organizing can't fix. Then what? Something I guess I shouldn't know right now.
Sometimes the surprise is in what we don't know. The surprise is in what we can't control. The surprise is in hoping for the best and finding out it was meant to be all along. The surprise at the very least is always in hope.