Who woulda thunk it? Who ever thought that this journey for an ear would have a happy ending? I guess I probably shouldn't consider it a done deal yet...we still have 6 days for the journey to come to a screeching halt. But truly folks, we've never been this close. No surgeries, no skin grafts, no infections, no hospitalizations, no antibiotics, no pain, no anesthesia. Just six days to count down to an ear. Make that, two ears.
And what am I feeling? I'm excited. I'm nervous. I'm overwhelmed. I'm scared. I'm happy. I'm relieved. I'm stressed. I'm sick to my stomach. I'm full of smiles. And I'm hoping that Kennedy is having so much fun at camp this week that she's too busy to feel any of this.
I have to admit that this has hit me harder than I ever imagined it would. When Kennedy first tried the ear mold on a few weeks ago, she cried. I held it together, I got her through the rest of the appointment, I dropped her off at school. Then I lost it. I sat on my porch and I cried all the live-long afternoon. I wish I could explain. I wish I had words. But even weeks later, I don't. I just don't.
Being Kennedy's mom has never been easy (but don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade it for anything). It has been a journey that has forced me to a be a stronger person, a mean advocate, a better mom (well, I guess to be fair we should probably ask for validation of this from kgg and Katie but for now, I'll go with it). But nothing has been as hard as this journey for an ear. I've said it before and I'll say it again, the life-and-death stuff that we faced in the first half of her life...that sucked beyond words. But those choices were easy. I mean, duh...I'm going to do what my child needs to live.
But this elective stuff? This quality of life stuff? This stuff that could come back to haunt me? This stuff that I constantly second-guess my decisions about? This fine line of you are perfect as you are but let's change you? Let's face it...sometimes it makes me cry. Sometimes it makes me want to punch something. Sometimes it makes me scream "why me? why her?" Sometimes it makes me full of hate that these decisions even need to be made. Sometimes it makes me lose my shit. Then I take one look at that sweet blond, blue-eyed girl, and I carry on. I fight this fight, I make these decisions, I continue on this journey for her and her alone.
And Lord knows that this journey has consumed us. In the last three years, I have lost track of the number of doctor appointments, the pre-ops, the tests, the surgeries, the days spent in the hospital, the number of infections, the number of gifts, of calls/texts/visits trying to cheer her up. And, I have lost track of the number of tears. Not because they don't matter or because they are in the past, but because they matter too much. Disappointment has met us around every corner. Every. Freakin'. Corner. Fortunately, it only has 6 days to figure out which corner we're coming around next...maybe we'll win this game after all!
This last time of trying on the ear, there were no tears. She looked in the mirror and gave her approval. She smirked when her big sister told her it looked good. She even let her take a picture and send it to Daddy. Maybe, just maybe, she's allowing herself a victory. Maybe, just maybe, she is realizing that she will soon have two ears. Finally.
We're about to face a lot of firsts - the first time she wears it in public, the first time she wears it swimming, the first time she wears it to a sleepover, the first picture we take of her wearing it, the first time someone asks something about it, the first time showing up at school with it, the first time she completely forgets that she has a prosthetic ear on. I have no wild thoughts that she will put it on Tuesday and be 100% fine and dandy with this ear. It is a MAJOR life-changing event for her. It will change life for her as she knows it. It will change what she looks like. It may change her confidence level. It will be an adjustment.
But in the long run, it will just be Kennedy. With two ears. Beautiful, as always.
