Blog posts by mommy Shana and mommy Jess

Three children, two moms, one C.P. diagnosis....and a partridge in a pear tree.

Monday, April 2, 2012

A Wish by mommy Jess

I don’t pray as most of you dear readers know. God and I finalized the details of our divorce sometime in the late nineties.

I broke our mutual silence to pray (or really beg) god to please oh please oh please let Greta be okay repeatedly every night for months and we all know how that ended. But really, even as a kid I was never that good at it. You know how they say you have to believe in hypnotism to become hypnotized? I never believed. I’ve only turned to beseeching the darkness to do the impossible at my most desperate. It is no wonder it doesn’t work. Neither did that birthday wish for my parents to finally get cable television when I was ten despite it being accompanied by the extinguishing of ten blazing candles atop my dairy queen ice cream cake with one perfect breath.

But I do kind of wish on shooting stars and wishing wells and other customary wish-based cultural touchstones. A few nights ago I climbed damp metal stairs on a pitching ferry boat in Maine with Greta in my arms to smell the night air. This was our last hurrah before her surgery to lengthen her tendons and goodness knows what else (they have to see once they "get in there"), a trip to help us forget what awaited us at home. On the top deck of the ship the sun was setting and I saw the stars come out and made a wish, something that sounded a little like a prayer but more like a plea. Who knows who I was talking to; the salty air, the whipping wind, the rocky sea, or the little girl breathing in and out in my arms, her chubby fist wrapped my scarf, silenced by the expanse before us, trusting me to hold her safe above the churning water.

A Wish for Greta:

Universe as you take my daughter from me to that cold surgical suite please let the surgeon’s hand be swift and skillful

Please let the nurses who restrain her while they pump cherry scented gas into her lungs and hold her thrashing limbs be kind

Please let her IV go in on the first try

Please let their words be soothing and her decent into unconsciousness be filled with serenity and not panic

Please let them be able to fix the tight tendons that are always pulling, pulling, pulling past the muscles, past the skin, past the tissue and bending her bones

Please let her wake up

Please don’t let her wake up screaming in pain unable to recognize me

Please let the medical staff be merciful and give her the pain medication she needs without me having to pull a “Terms of Endearment” Shirley Maclaine level freak out

Please don’t make her angry with me for doing this to her

Please let this be the right thing to do

Pretty please?

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