My therapist once asked me a question- along the lines of "what is the worst part of your appointments to discuss Ethan's growth?" And without a doubt, the answer was "telling the grandparents." Okay, so here's the truth. Sometimes I've joked about the value of going straight from no kids to being a grandparent. My mom's best friend married late in life and did just that. But the problem of being a grandparent, as I see it, is that you have all of the love (and possibly even a bit more) than a parent has, and almost none of the say in decisions.
My parents and Daniel's parents have been completely supportive about us going forward with the surgery for Ethan's feeding tube. So much so that Daniel's mom has insisted on coming down and staying with us Sunday-Tuesday so that she can watch Vivian and come visit Ethan, even though she herself is now having cataract surgery on Thursday (they're Canadian, and appointments kind of choose you, not the other way around). My parents, who have been totally and 1000000% behind the decision, were all of a sudden sounding freaked out on Skype today when we chatted.
The truth is, I know, beyond the faintest shadow of a doubt, that my 28 pound 4-year-old is never going to gain weight on his own. He eats approximately one meal per day, which is great, but that's not even enough to maintain weight, much less gain the weight he needs. It's just really hard being in a position where I have to be strong for Ethan and for my parents and Daniel's parents, and for Daniel, while I'm at it. And it hurts to be away from Vivian this weekend (she went with Daniel to Canada today to pick up his mom) and know that I'm mostly going to be away from her on Monday and Tuesday as well. Sometimes I just want to be 6 years old again and stamp my feet and scream "BUT I DON'T WANT TO BE A GROWN-UP!!!!"
Fortunately, I have a lot of peace and prayers going out with us and the memory of my dear friend putting her hand on Ethan on Friday and saying "God Bless You and Keep You" as she left. That small act of kindness and shared faith broke me down into a small fit of (good) crying on Friday. It's nice to have reminders that I am not alone, and that God loves and is taking care of my little boy. There's a lot of peace in that.
On a related note, I have consumed approximately 2000 calories of chocolate today, and I'm pretty sure once I'm relegated to sleeping in the kids' room tomorrow night (since my mother-in-law will be sleeping in our room) I will consume at least 1000 calories more. Seriously, there should be some rule that calories consumed within a week of a child's visit to Children's Hospital don't count. Let's get on that people, okay :)