Where is the pause button

Today was Wyatt's pre-operative appointment for his upcoming Glenn. They had to take his vital signs (blood pressure, pulse ox, height weight), do an EKG, take a urine sample, and draw blood. The poor guy's veins are so blown out they had to draw blood from his scalp. 

And today is the day that made his upcoming surgery so very real. I swear when I am faced with stress like this, I just shut down. The day of Wyatt's Norwood, I was a zombie. There are many parts of the day I simply don't remember. And there are parts that I feel like I remember clearly, but have been told otherwise. My brain just turns to mush. And it takes every ounce of my being to continue being a functioning adult, and parent. And I am sure that in these times, I am not being quite the parent I should be being. 

DJ signed the consent form for Wyatt's Norwood, so he feels like it is good luck for him to sign all of the surgical consent/anesthesiology forms. And even though he has done it before, giving informed consent today brought him to tears. No parent should have to feel like signing that form makes him a bad parent; but not signing the form does also. It's as if you're signing his death warrant by signing it, but you are 100% signing that warrant by not signing the form. You are agreeing to let some people take your baby into an operating room, knock him out, slice him open, and cut pieces of his heart off, in hopes that it all saves his life. Shitty does not even begin to describe this situation.

I just wish that the rest of life would stop while we deal with this. I wish I could pause everything else: Austyn, 1st grade, the bills, the house, the cats, jobs, responsibilities. I wish it would all go away so I could focus on Wyatt and only Wyatt, and not feel guilty for not being able to think of much else. So I could not feel guilty for wanting to curl up in a ball in my bed with a bottle of beer and cry myself to sleep. So I could get away from the images in my head. So I could be able to watch DJ playing with Wyatt, making him laugh, and forcing myself to remember every single piece of that vision - it case it is the last one I get. It is so unfair that heart parents have to think that way.

When I was pregnant, a sweet boy named Logan was HLHS as well, and I was following his journey closely. 2 days before his Glenn, his mom posted a blog about him, and said something about how she wondered if that night would be the last night they got with him (because he was due to be in the hospital the next day, and then surgery the day after). It made me so sad that she had to think that way. And then, early that next morning, Logan was rushed to the ER and he lost his battle. It was in fact the last night they got with him. That thought makes my stomach churn. That is our reality. Or at least it could be. 

I don't do religion, and I don't pray, but I do hope that that does not become our reality. I hope with all my might that surgery goes well, that Wyatt recovers quickly, and well, and that we can start living our post-Glenn life. 

And in the mean time, if I could just find that damned pause button...