Henry had his 3 month MRI last week. It looked good.
The despair that I would have experienced had the news been otherwise has not been matched by my emotional response to the best news that I could have hoped for. I expected a bit of elation, but it was only relief that settled in.
It feels akin to a great first half of a soccer match. Didn't really expect to do so well, but sure as hell hoped we would. A brief woohoo!, and then back to being nervous about losing. The other team had the advantage going in.
Aah, the constant sports analogies in my head. From someone who doesn't watch sports. Guess there's not much comparable in knitting.
Such conflicting emotions. How can I not be elated with victory? How can I not be full of glee and hope at every moment? I feel guilty when I see other children and families who have not been so lucky...what would they give to be where I am today, instead of at their daughter's funeral?
Melancholy, with intervening moments of hope, laughter, elation. I'd like to do better, but right now I can't.