Degree of Difficulty

Some days are definitely harder than others. Some days are physically exhausting. Some days are emotionally draining. 

I absolutely HATE the days I have to hold Dru down to allow someone to draw her blood. So much blood from such a tiny body. 

And the days she has to fast for an ultrasound or echocardiogram are no bueno. She looks at me with those big brown eyes and all I can do is lie to her about everything being ok. Sometimes it's just not ok. But it will be. 

I thought that it would be easier when I was told she would be sedated for her MRI, but watching her go to sleep like that put me in tears. And when she woke up at the sound of our voices when it was over, I cried again. 

I also hate the days that all of my doubts creep in. Things like "how much harder is this gonna get?", "when will we get the call?", "who has to give up their life to give my daughter hers?", "will we find a liver?", "will it be in time?", "what if....?"  

But in the middle of these hard days we are still so blessed. 

A phone call from my mom to check on us and tell me that her dental office wants to wear "I believe in Magic" tshirts once a week in support. 

Texts from my dearest friends daily to see how we are.  

Random donations of money from strangers. 

My whole family willing to be tested as live donors. 

My 12-year olds entire baseball team willing to do the same. 

A letter and money from an elderly neighbor whose handwriting reminded me of my grandma Joe's and had me crying again. 

Words of encouragement on Facebook and Instagram. 

One message of a complete stranger offering his liver (I wish it were that easy). 

I could go on and on. 

And thank goodness here lately, Dru has been as close to normal as she's been in a while. Those are the moments I soak in and take as many mental pictures as I can. Those are the moments that will carry us through. She is amazingly strong and forgiving.