When you get asked questions like these, they make your heart stop:
“Do you have a living will?”
“Do you plan to donate your organs should anything happen to you?”
“Who will make decisions for you in the event you are not able to?”
Needless to say, as the mother of two children heading into my third surgery this year, these questions brought tears to my eyes. As I entered the operating room, and a nurse asked me my name to confirm my identity, I held out my wrist so she could check my information on my plastic band. I knew if I opened my mouth, I would erupt like a volcano. Standing before a room full of smart residents and doctors in a pool of tears was not my greatest desire at that moment, so I was happy when I was told I would be asleep within seconds.
It’s funny how just about a dozen years ago, life was just about me, and no one else. I was living in NYC, working in television, having the time of my life. When I met my husband, the adventure continued, only more trips abroad ensued. Life was about us and no one else.
Then one child was born, then the next. Damn, they came fast! Within seconds of their arrival, everything changed. Life was no longer about us. It became about them. As much as I’ve tried to put myself in front of them over the years, so not to forget who I was before they arrived, they are my everything.
I started this blog for that very reason. It was during a time of stagnancy. I wasn’t working and I was trying to figure things out. This blog pulled me out of dormancy and actually put me in a completely productive place in my life. I have been able to do things with my family that I never dreamed of because of this blog.
There’s always that something will go wrong during surgery, and you have to be realistic about life. The morning of my surgery, I thought about all the things I do for this family, and I wondered who would take my place in my absence…should I disappear. It was really hard to think about. I worried about my daughter and who would be with her to help explain puberty – when she gets her period, has her first crush on a boy. I worried about my son and how his development is occurring so much later than my daughter. I wondered what he’d look like with chest hair, a flat belly and long legs, none of which he has now.
My surgery was successful, really successful, and now I’m ready to embrace life like I never did before. I still complain from time to time – I’ve never been a big fan of putting my kids to bed. I like my nights. But now I don’t mind it. Not one bit. I don’t want anyone else to do it. I want it to be me.
My son actually never even wanted me to put him to bed, he preferred my husband. But now at the end of their time together each night now, I get called to his room for a good night kiss and it’s FANTASTIC.
Yep, I’m a mom. I started blogging as a mom via The Culture Mom, what this blog was called before. I realize since changing the name to The Culture Tripper, that I’ve lost a part of my soul. So, I’m bringing back The Culture Mom. The Culture Tripper was not truly meant to be. Stay tuned.