Being a mom to a baby with cancer is hard as a parent. You worry. There is no easy or delicate way to explain it. You just worry. Marc and I force ourselves to take a break and eat lunch in the cafeteria. We find things to laugh about. And most importantly, we cherish each smile Lucy Jo flashes at us.
With all that being said, ‘parenting’ is just part of our daily walk.
We must be insurance and business people. There is paperwork to fill out and details to ensure that the financial/insurance guru’s get the information straight and we get charged appropriately. One wrong address can make a bill go to the wrong place, a payment be late and then a mark on our credit occurs (yes, speaking from experience).
Oh, but there is more.
Tonight, we added a nurse’s cap to the hat rack. We learned while we are at home, it will be our job to flush the broviac out once a day. And should LJ need it, we will have to redress her broviac. This might seam like not a big deal, but STERILIZATION is nothing to take lightly.
Thank goodness Marc has OCD tendencies, because these aren’t one-woman-jobs. We already figured out that Marc will be the nurse and I will be holding Lucy’s hands and her body.
Honestly, this team we call a marriage is one of the main things that has kept me sane. I never knew how well we work together until this last week. When push comes to shove, we are there for each other.
And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love. 1 Corinthians 13:13