Last night, after we got the news that blindsided us, we gathered our things and headed to church. We had a previous engagement scheduled and felt that we needed to keep our commitment. So we went.
Our friends knew right away that things were not alright. I only managed to tell one or two without being overcome with tears and asking Brandon to speak for us.
Eventually I was able to go back and explain more clearly to those first few friends.
I came home exhausted. My eyes burned from crying and I had a pounding headache.
Brandon and I went to bed early (for us.)
This morning I woke up and quickly remembered the news from yesterday. I wanted to pull the covers over my head and hide for the entire day, but eventually managed to drag myself out of bed. I started our morning routine.
Brandon received a call from Dr. V's office saying that he didn't have a preference for a neurologist and that we could check with our insurance and see who was covered or we could go back to our family practitioner and see who he recommended.
Our insurance allows us to self refer. So we got out our list of covered doctors. We don't know of anyone that has used a neurologist here in Richmond, so we will have to trust that God will guide us to the right one. Brandon called the first one and explained our situation and was given an appointment date in February. We found this unacceptable and kept calling around.
Finally, one lady had mercy on us and said she would call us back with a date after Brandon explained that February is a really long time to wait and we were desperate for answers for our oldest son.
So we waited all afternoon for her to call back. That phone call hasn't come.
I packed all the children in the car and went on a mission to find Solomon some shoes because I just could not stand to be home waiting for the phone for another second.
I think the lady at Stride Rite thought I was insane. I felt paralyzed to make a decision and sent a picture of our choices to Brandon's cell phone via text wanting him to tell me what to pick already. Finally I just asked her which ones were available in his size and bought the first two that she listed.
I walked next door to see if they had black leggings at Gymboree for Julianne and the super perky sales associate told me that no, they have every color in the rainbow but not black. I mumbled thanks and walked out.
As I drove home, I missed the exit I needed, twice. "RECALCULATING!" my GPS shouted at me. My head was pounding and I cannot explain the relief that came over me as I pulled into our shared driveway. I practically ran into the house and locked the door behind me.
I changed the boys and put them down for a late nap and then went on the prowl trying to find my Imitrex so I can attempt to fight my migraine.
And here I sit on my bed, wearing mickey mouse pajamas, with a cold glass of sweet tea, trying to keep my mind from wandering to the unknown. I'm wrestling with thoughts of whether or not I should send Xander's birthmom a letter letting her know what is going on... or if that would only serve as torture for her as she waits for us to find out.
I'm desperate to reassure her that everything will be okay. That the family that promised to give him the life she felt she couldn't, is going to make this okay. But I can't. I'm a human mama, not a Supernatural Father.
Days like this make me want to crawl under a rock and hide. Hopefully we get a decent appointment date for Xander's neurology referral soon.