I was trying to get my toddler daughter dressed, but she laughed at my efforts, and she ran off down the hall while I held her pants in my hand.
“Get back here!” I commanded, and while she laughed hysterically I added, “or I’m telling your Daddy!”
And it hit me then. Hard. A trickle of worry had been running below the surface for the past twenty four hours, but I had tried, albeit in vain, to keep it subdued. It fought its way to the surface as my baby giggled in the hall, and I thought, what if I couldn’t tell him?!
And I told my husband in my head, I can’t do this without you.
Today was the day, the day that maybe we could find out something. Maybe we could find out what the knot was that my husband found in his belly.
Perhaps a thrombus they said. Perhaps not. Doesn’t matter since reason is evasive when things get real, and hit too close to home.
Why did I think it was nothing when he asked me weeks ago? And I berated myself once again.
What if it’s something really bad? I wondered again. But I pushed that frightening thought away. I had to because I couldn’t do this without him.
He wasn’t scared. That’s what he said anyway, but I wondered. I would be going with him for the test, and I knew that was the right thing when despite his proclaimed lack of fear that he still said, “I’m glad you’re going with me.”
I prayed. God knows I prayed. I got down on my knees, and even though I didn’t want to, I let it go. I let him go. But still. Still I thought, I can’t do this without you.
Below my worst fears ran a river of hope, a trust that God had it working together for our good, even if I couldn’t see, or despite if I could understand. I was grateful for it, that river, but still. Still I prayed, God, I can’t do this life without him. I don’t think I can.
When they wouldn’t let me go back with him for the test, and I sat without my human rock at my side, I had time to think. Think about how I would do it without him. It hurt, but in an unfathomable way, because the fullness of such a tragedy never came to me completely. I wouldn’t let it, I just couldn’t. I only knew one thing. I can’t do this without you.
When he came back out, and he was with me again, I took his hand like an anchor. His solid grip held me safely, and I felt peace. It kept me grounded to the floor when his following words made my body want to soar. “They said it’s fine. Nothing.”
And though we still had some more answers to obtain the important part was that it would be okay. He would be okay.
We carried on like a regular day, and stopped at the market to get the baby some juice. As we walked, still hand in hand, I stopped near the cans of tuna, and I collapsed against his chest. Tears poured, and I fell over my muffled words as they tumbled out emotionally upon his shirt, damp from my cries.
“I can’t do this without you.” I cried.
He patted my back, and he stroked my hair. “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”
I looked up at him all smiles, and he wiped away my tears. Then we kept walking down the grocery store aisle, and we picked out the juice we thought our daughters would enjoy best. As we agreed upon a selection, and walked out together I knew I couldn’t do it without him. And for now I don’t have to.
Rhonda says
Oh Brie I had no idea yall were going through this. Extra prayers for you and your family
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
It’s all been rather sudden. Thank you so much. I’ll take all the prayers offered!
Leslie says
And in the midst of my silly stuff you were having to deal with real life! praying for you guys and praising God for a good report. May His peace bless you and keep you! Thank you for being there in the midst of your own struggles. <3
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you, and not a problem at all. Ever!