Tomorrow morning, bright and early, I head out with the two littlest ones to UCLA Medical Center.
Jilly will undergo extensive testing over the course of the next few days…ultimately to see if she is a candidate for brain surgery for her epilepsy.
Honestly, even though its only testing, I’m a mess.
Today was hard.
I cried. More than once.
I’m not even really sure why.
The uncertainty of what the future holds for my girl?
The anxiety of how the next few days will play out?
How to mother the bitty boy and a girl hooked up to machines simultaneously? (My mother in law will be there to help, but you know how it is…)
There is a part of me that just can’t stand that this is part of our lives. That we have to do this at all. That we even have to go.
And as soon as I type those words, I bite my tongue, and am ashamed.
We are blessed that this is even an option.
That we have the resources available to us.
That we have family to support us every step of the way.
That we have this silly, goofy little family.
Extras and all.
I love these dorky kids.
They make me happy even when I am being a pouty brat.