I recently had back surgery. This was my very first "real" surgery, and there was no shortage of worry, stress, and fear on my part. I was concerned with the anesthesia, the healing, the pain, the recovery, the success of the surgery... but mostly I was concerned with the weeks of recuperation I had ahead of me. More specifically, letting go of all the things I usually did, or letting go of control.
I had about three days between my doctor's appointment where we decided that surgery was the best option, and the scheduled surgery itself. I filled every minute of those three days micromanaging, leaving sticky notes with instructions on pretty much every inch of my house.
I also had to swallow the ego, and do the one thing that I still find very difficult for some reason. I had to send the email to my friends not only letting them know this surgery was happening, but asking for help.Though, to be honest, it wasn't really asking so much as letting... they had been offering for the weeks leading up to the surgery. I had been putting them off saying things like, "oh you're so sweet, but we're okay" and "Kevin is an excellent cook, we've got it covered." While those things were in the most part true, Kevin is a great cook, we were okay, we were kind of all just getting by, stressed, in pain, tired, and stretched.
Here's the thing... I sent that email, and within five minutes, maybe less, I had a weeks worth of meals scheduled and coming to my house. By the end of maybe an hour, two weeks. I spent the better part of that day just listening to my email notification noise and crying.
You guys, I cannot even begin to express to you how that felt. To be so loved, so looked after. There was no hesitation. My "can you please help?" was answered with an immediate and overwhelming "YES! Of course!! Whatever you need!!"
Through these two weeks, I have had someone at my door every day to bring us delicious food, offer a gentle hug, share a smile and a laugh or two, and to generally all around fill my house and heart with love. It is no small thing. It has meant the world.
I have had texts, phone calls, messages, prayers, flowers. I have had errands run, sensitive personal items bought (I'm lookin at you Amy), and even an offer to shave my legs for me because I can't bend down to do it myself (Ah-Lee)!! I had one friend, who despite the fact that this is her wedding week, despite the fact that I had to heartbreakingly back out of being a bridesmaid, brought me food, checked on me several times, offered to do anything and everything in her power for to be a part of her day in any way I could... and even called TODAY, the day of her wedding to let me know she is thinking of me. I am not sure how I was ever blessed with such incredible friends... but I am pretty sure mine are the very best on the planet. I love you all SO SO SO much!!!
I also have to tell you my family has been incredible. My parents offered to drive up here from Texas to be here for the surgery (they would have spent more time in the car than I was in the hospital). I insisted they stayed home (which may have nearly killed my sweet mother). But I could feel them with me every second and step of the way. Story time... When I was checking in, the lady checking in next to me had my mother's name, Lavada. This is NOT a common name. They were there. God was showing me that they were there. Beyond that, I got a text or a phone call from one or both of them every day since checking on me, and a delivery of the most beautiful pale orange roses I have ever seen. I love you both, More than I could ever say.
My mother in law has done absolutely everything she can to help us. She has watched my children after school, kept them on the weekends, taken them at six in the morning when my husband leaves for work, fed them, got them to school. She has taken off work just so that I knew I had someone close in case I needed her. But, my favorite, she picked me up and took me with her on Tuesday to go vote. It was a very moving moment for me. She is AWESOME. I. Love. This. Woman.
My children have been wonderful. These boys who are slaves to routine, have been so very flexible, easy going, and kind. They have given me gentle hugs and kisses every day, and prayed for me every night. And when my oldest kind of got the shaft for his birthday, he assured me it bothered me more than it did him, saying, "Mom, you know I totally understand right? It's okay! No big deal!" Truth or not, it raised my heart to hear it. Thank you boys... Mama loves you.
This brings me to my beautiful husband. For that, I have to back up a few weeks. The back issues manifested itself as extreme sciatic pain. It was very sudden, and the most painful thing I have ever experienced... including the birth of both my viking children. It kept me up all night for the better part of a month. I couldn't lie down, and was up constantly pacing the floors. He was up with me, sitting on the couch watching me pace. He would have held my hand and paced with me had I let him. He held me when I cried. Let me squeeze him when the pain was too much to do anything else. He rubbed my back, was constantly researching things that might help until we could get in to the surgeon. He took off work to come to every appointment. He was my advocate in the doctors' offices, speaking up for me when I was too tired or in too much pain to do it myself. He cooked, cleaned, fed, bathed, brushed, dressed, drove our kids, and sometimes me.
Then, surgery day came.
The night before, neither of us could really sleep. We were both nervous. We woke up, got ready and drove to the hospital. The car was pretty quiet. It was dark when we got there, and we stayed in the car for a moment in silence... I was praying. I certain he was too. We checked in, and he did his very best to make me smile, crack some jokes... make it light. But, the closer it got, the less funny it was for both of us. Finally, it was about go time, and I asked him to come over I kissed him, he kissed me back. There was a look shared between us I will NEVER forget. One of pure love, It was beautiful.
After I woke up from surgery, I waited for him to come into the room. It was like I was holding my breath until I saw him. I needed see him, to come up for air... and then I did.
He stayed home with me the next couple of days, juggling bringing me my meds, making sure I ate, and working from home. Then, taking care of the boys when they got home from school. He has lifted me in and out of bed, helped me walk around the house, cleaned my incision site, bathed me, dressed me, kept me on schedule with my medications, kept my spirits up when they were down, reminded me to take it slow, put up with my micromanaging, kept the house up, juggled the kids' schedules... and all without complaining, all with love and service. There are not words to tell you or him what he means to me, how much I appreciate him, how grateful I am for him. This has brought us closer in ways I wasn't expecting. This has put a few more stitches in between our ever connected hearts. He was and is and always will be my superhero.
And, for the record... he didn't need any of my sticky notes.
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