Waiting

I have never been any good at waiting for something to happen, patience has never been my virtue and I doubt it ever will be.  I was the sort of person that wanted everything now, that believed they could construct their life and make things happen.

This has been a massive issue for me recently, all my beliefs have been challenged and shattered.

It all started when Heidi got sick and I took her to an out of hours GP appointment. I had to wait anxiously to see the nurse, desperate for her to tell me what was wrong and make Heidi better. From that point on I felt intense anguish and helplessness for the next three days. Yet underneath was always a layer of faith that someone would get her well again and she was going to get through it. She was a strong, healthy baby, so how could she not be ok?

When we took Heidi back to the hospital for the second time on Wednesday afternoon it took forever to get to the ward, there was a road closure and a twenty minute journey took twice what it should have and of course there was no parking close to the building.

We rushed on to the ward, carrying Heidi in only her vest she was so hot and I was expecting her to be taken in and seen straight away. I assumed that she would get some tests, medicine, anything to make her better and help her recover. But I had more waiting to do.

Waiting for the doctor to come and see her. Waiting for someone to tell us what was wrong. Waiting for the treatment to work. Waiting for the ambulance. Waiting for her heart to start again. Waiting for the CT scan results. Waiting for good news. Waiting for the nightmare to end.

It’s hard to describe how I felt during Heidi’s time in the hospitals. I hadn’t slept for more than thirty minutes or eaten anything significant for two days.  I was constantly anxious, hopeful, praying to anyone and everyone, talking to Heidi telling her everything was going to be ok and that I was with her, eager for her to get well, desperate for someone to make her better, pleading for a saviour. I was running on adrenaline and fierce optimism. I never gave up hope, until I had to.

A nurse asked me after we had the devastating CT scan results if there was anything she could do for me and I asked her to get me a miracle, that was the last time I believed in them.

At the end I was utterly drained, I had no prayers, no hope, no anxiety, no faith left, I was empty and still am. I had given my all.   I was completely hollowed out.

When we walked out of the hospital empty handed on Thursday night the world was gently vibrating, everything I saw shuddered. I was so tired, hungry and shocked. It felt like everything had happened so fast once it was all over. I had just experienced the worst thing that will happen in my life, the one thing as a mother I should have been able to prevent and my living hell began.

Maybe you’ve been through something similar, maybe you understand, maybe you don’t and I hope you never will. 

I thought after going through all that, it would be enough, I wouldn’t have anything to wait for anymore, but I was wrong.   I had to wait for her funeral, the hospital notes to be sent to us and now I am waiting for the meeting with the nurse and professor that are doing the investigation into Heidi’s death.   None of this waiting is being done patiently, but as I know I have no control and can’t speed the process up, I stay busy, yet it is always hanging over me like a dark threatening cloud.

I have had to learn to let go, to just let things move at their own pace, I have had to loosen the reins and stop forcing things.  I haven’t had a choice.  I can’t construct my life, it will all occur when the time is right.  Life flows by itself like a raging river and I am not in control of its direction.