Tomorrow will mark one month since Poppy was handed to me.
The day after that will mark one week until we have to remove her eye.
There have been a range of emotions that come with choosing this for your child. I now understand what the parent of a child who has to have an amputation goes through. I remember caring for a boy once who had to have his lower arm amputated. At that point, I didn’t understand the magnitude of the grief. This kid wasn’t on the Hematology and Oncology Unit. The chances of him dying during this surgery were slim to none. What was his mom so upset about? I didn’t get it, because, well, I was stupid. She would still have her son. There were other parents that couldn’t say the same. I worry about not being to be able to say the same about Dolly.
Yet, once we do this for our Poppy, she will never be the same. It’s not that her left eye even works now. It doesn’t. It hurts her. It’s big. People stare occasionally. So, losing this eye will probably mean she’s happier in the long run. But, for me, as her mom, I know what she’s losing. This is something that will be life long for her. She’ll always, from a week from Friday, on out…have one eye. She’ll be different. She won’t be whole anymore. I feel like, she won’t be her. I love her, “bubble eye” and all.
I know it’s not the biggest of big things when we have so many medical needs in our home, but as her mama, it’s big to me. So, on Saturday, without telling the children why it was so important, I dressed them all up, lined them up and took a few pictures.
They’re all looking at the camera. Most of them are smiling. That’s important in and of itself. It’s also important for Poppy to know that we always, always thought she was beautiful, no matter what, and that we celebrated each and every moment. Whole…or not…we love her. We always have, and we always will.
–FullPlateMom, who is trying so hard to be strong.