fixing Elie's hips

It had finally arrived.  The appointment that I was simultaneously wanting to come and dreading.  We were scheduled to go weeks ago but then we got another dumping of snow.  We couldn't drive out to the clinic that day and so the appointment was cancelled.  A few more weeks to delay the inevitable.  A few more weeks to not have to make any decisions.

But now the day had come.  The four of us girls waited for the doctor to come in and speak the words that would determine which way the dominoes of our life would start to fall.  I wasn't in the mood to play games, but when you are sitting for multiplying minutes in a doctor's office entertaining your three children is not a choice but a necessity.  We have a game we play while we wait for doctors called "Brown Bear, Brown Bear".  Much like Simeon Says and guaranteed to help with the wiggles.   Elie and Faith had a great time and London enjoyed the show.  But the doctor was running behind and on this day even brown bear started to loose its charm.  So we started playing the alphabet game.  In this game you name everything you can think of starting with "A" and then "B"... we got to about "J"  when the doctor made his arrival.  Dr. Friend is exacly as you would imagine a doctor with the name of Friend.  Just perfect for taking care of little half pints.  

Earlier that week a new thought hit me and started getting the emotions to swirl.  I realized that one day my little girl is going to understand all of her health issues and the reality of what that means for her.  And on that day I will no longer be able to carry it for her, the weight will become her own and the thought of that just kills me.  I love the bliss that we live in right now.  I love that after all she has experienced there are still some areas of her life where innocence abounds.  I am thankful that days before this appointment God allowed me to start processing this idea.  Because this appointment was different, this time my little girl took in and understood everything the doctor said.  

When we got in the car to go home my thoughts and emotions were swirling and I was working hard to keep it all together.  Then I looked in the rearview mirrot and caught a glimpse of my daughter with tears in her eyes.  "I don't want to have surgery."  And so we sat in the garage.  I held her in my arms in the front of our minivan until the sobbing stopped.  We talked it through.  I tried to explain and answer in a way that a six year old would understand.  Tried to explain things that I don't really understand myself.  The whys.  Because sometimes there really is just no answer to the why.  Only that I love her and will be there whatever comes along our path.  

There are so many things to consider but for now our plan is to repair her hips in November.  So we have eight more months to bond together before tackling this next hurdle.  Eight months to create fun memories.  Eight months to build our relationship.  Eight months for her to learn more language.  Eight months.