I'm nervous. I'm anxious. Relieved. Restless.
I have no fingernails left to bite.
Dylan's heart surgery is on Tuesday... 44 hours to be exact. Four months of waiting has come down to hours now. I'm so tired, but I can't rest.
I wish there was some way for me to tell Dylan what is about to happen to him, but yet I know it's better that he does not know. He can not anticipate it. He won't go into this afraid.
I've been trying to focus on the moments after surgery. The time when I can see my baby being wheeled out of the operating room.
At night when I'm trying to go to sleep, sometimes images of the actual surgery creep into my mind. I don't want to think of that, but I'm afraid. For Dylan. For me. For my family.
But I am also hopeful. For we have every reason to be. Dylan is going into this surgery strong and healthy. Over the past four months, he has proven time and time again that he is a fighter. I have so much faith in my son.
Yes, we are certainly hopeful. Nervous, anxious, relieved and restless. But above all, hopeful.