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Motherhood after Infertility and Parenting a child with ASD

Whispered “I love you’s”

2 Comments

My dear sweet boy,

Tomorrow you go in for surgery on your eyes and of course I am just a big ball of worry. On Halloween you developed a sty on your left upper lid. It progressively got bigger and ended up draining only to come back and along with that one another huge one developed on your lower lid. Over the last month we have tried drops, ointment, and oral antibiotic to no avail. They are still terrible and need to be surgically drained. In addition to that you have what appears to be a piece of scar tissue (that looks like a giant skin tag) under your right eyelid that they we will be taking care of.

I found a pediatric ophthalmologist that I do really like but it doesn’t take the fear away of knowing that you will be put under anesthesia. It has been a month of you being uncomfortable with these huge chalazions covering your right eye and I am just ready for you to be on the road to recovery.

I have known about the surgery for a week and find myself noticing little things about you that I have been taking for granted. How much you speak now-a-days, how much of an attitude you (still) have, how your fine motor skills have improved and how you make the funniest little face when you say the word “ice.” However, my most favorite part of our day is still bedtime. We read books and rock and after a few minutes I ask if you’re ready to get into bed. You typically say yes and then I whisper “I love you my sweet boy” and you whisper back “love you,” although it sounds more like “lah you” but I know what you are saying. It melts my heart every single time.

So tomorrow, right before you’re taken away from me in order to make you all better I will whisper “I love you” and hope that you know deep down in your bones just how much I mean it.

Mommy

2 thoughts on “Whispered “I love you’s”

  1. I hope his surgery goes well. I’m sure he will do great but mommy, not so much. It’s hard! Hang in there. I’ll pray for you both.

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