Monday, October 19, 2015

My sacrifice...

As I got ready to leave for work last week, I told him "I know you're going to call me". He assured me that he wouldn't, and they went about their evening routine like mommas worries were just that, mommas worries. While at work, I began to wind down the beginning part of my shift, and my phone rang. I knew it. Right then and there, I just knew it. His fever had spiked to 104F and I was not there. My work and home personality are very similar, I am essentially the same woman. However, when poop hits the fan at work, I am calm. I have been present for some very high stress situations, and somehow I can navigate through the situation just fine. It is exhilarating, the sense of urgency I have underneath my demeanour, and I love it. This call however, the 2 seconds of undertone in his speech, that...I COULD NOT HANDLE. I lose my shit, to be quite frank. The list appears in my brain, and instinctively I run it down quickly with Marcus..."did you...did he...have you...has he...", and like clockwork, his reply is slow and it takes all of my mental strength to not throw the phone down, run to my car and drive home. But I can't. Because just on the other side of the wall, there is a baby lying in a warmer, who has just had surgery. She is slow to recover, very sick and her mom sits at her side, weeping audibly. She is in no position to drive, she has no support and is broken. This is the face of my profession. It is this truth that jolts me still. For the better part of my life I have been a mother and I am also a wife. From time to time, I have been known to be a friend. And my family would still consider me to be a daughter and sister. But for three nights a week, I am not allowed to be any of those things. I can't be any of those things. And as perspective begins to weigh me down, it also ultimately anchors my emotions. It calms my insides and allows me to move forward and find a solution for our son. And as I pull myself together and walk back into my patients room, I know that I am not allowed to be sad for my child, for I must only show compassion for this baby and her mom. I am not allowed to grieve my sons inability to sleep, for I must show them endless hope. I cannot share my son's personal story of sickness, for I must show this mother that the only baby that is important to me right now, is her daughter. Because it is. I am committed to be present for 12hrs at the bedside of some of the sickest children in our city. And I do it.

***pls note, the dipiction of the characters described are of a fictitious nature and only serve as an illustration of what a pediatric ICU may look like from time to time***

It seems I have had more and more opportunities to photograph lately, and I am not single bit. I work with Callyn and she requested some photos of her brood together before they became a family of 6. Here are a few of my faves // #CALLYNallgirls
ps...the 4th is a surprise sex, but my money is on a girl, hence my hashtag, lol.

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