July 18th. This day always brings mixed emotions for me, and undoubtedly I will cry, at some point, on this day. You see, today is the anniversary (3rd this year) of Landon's life-saving surgery that he had at teensy, tiny seven weeks old.
At seven weeks old I handed him over to a nurse I had never met before, kissed my precious baby good-bye, and walked out into the waiting room- where I would sit, stand, talk with the 30 friends and family members that travelled to be with us on that day, cry, and even laugh a little. Mostly, though, I stared at the photograph of Landon I had carried with me. I still have it, and it is wrinkled from my carrying it around all day- nine hours to be exact. Nine hours. It was within these hours that our life's course was determined, I feel. If Landon had not had biliary atresia, we probably would have been released from the care of Texas Children's, and Houston would by now be a faint memory of Landon's first year.
But he did. Sometimes I want to scream, "God, you could have chosen a different way to get us here! We would have obeyed whether Landon was sick or not!"
But, where would our connection be? (although my grandmother received excellent care at MD Anderson, I never actually had visited the Texas Medical Center before Landon was a patient) It makes so much more sense for us when explaining why we came when we tell them how we fell in love with Houston, because of the great care Landon received here.
So, yes, today is a bittersweet day. Bitter because I remember the heart-wrenching grief I felt as a new mother, trusting our wonderful surgeon, Dr. Wesson. But it is also sweet, because it enabled me to have the adorable, fun-loving little boy that I have today.
Thank you God, for modern medical technology.
I love my son.
**The first picture is the one I carried around all day with me. The second is Landon now! Praise God
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