let go and let God

Cooper had his 3rd fiberoptic endoscope this afternoon. Last time, I was a mess and that was over a year ago, so I brought back up. This time I was equipped with Rick AND Grandad. 


I am not sure I would say we got the news we were hoping for, but it wasn't all bad... Comparatively speaking, Cooper's larynx is less floppy than it was during the last scope.
It felt good seeing it with my own eyes. Unfortunately, his stridor hasn't improved over the last 6 months, which suggests that this improvement may not be the cause of the stridor. So as doctor's do, we cross off one cause and move onto the next, in Cooper's case, down the respiratory system. So onto the lungs we go.


I trust Dr. Brager. I actually really like him. Back when Coop had his ear tube surgery, I was so relieved when Dr. Brager came out ran out of the operating room because he knew how scared I was about the anesthesia with Cooper's breathing difficulties. I respect the fact that he reminds me which appointments that I will need some back up and I trust that everything happens for a reason. But... you knew the but was coming... I can't help but be on the verge of tears. I have had this pit in the bottom of my throat since we left the doctor.


I don't really know what I thought would happen today. A part of me hoped that he would look and see a growth or lesion that can be fixed easier than ear tubes and Dr. Brager would have a light bulb, "Oh THAT is it!" And give us some medicine to fix it. Problem solved. Not that I want anything to be wrong with Cooper but because I wanted a definitive answer. You would think I would've learned by now not to get my hopes up.


As I am writing this, Rick is with Cooper because he just woke up coughing so hard his bright red face was almost purple. He was/is screaming his head off, almost literally, and the pit in the bottom of my throat is finally coming up in endless streams of tears. I just want to know what is going on. Why have the symptoms gotten worse if his voicebox is getting better. And why the hell didn't anyone refer us to a pulmonary specialist sooner. Ugh.


That kind of thinking gets me no where productive, its just the tears talking. I end up walking down paths that get really scary by repeating google search after google search hoping that one of the youtube videos or medical research journals or blogs I see will help me figure this out.


And then I remember how beautiful my Cooper is, with his white blonde hair and this giggle I could listen to all day. The sweetness in his eyes when he runs full-fledged (fists pumping) across the playground shouting "mama" because he just missed me that much. The way he says "tank tew" every single last time I hand him something, even when I change his diaper (which he hates). And I force myself, like I am right now, to remember that everything is okay (although most times it takes one of my really awesome girlfriends to remind me) because he is bright and sweet and developing at a pace that is totally, absolutely nothing to worry about regardless of the silly sounds his breathing/voicebox/whatever it is makes.

So here we are back to square one, learning the same lesson that I keep thinking we already covered. It doesn't really matter if I trust our pediatrician or our ENT or the pulmonary specialist or whoever we may see next or after that. What matters is that I still am learning to let go and let God. Because when I give this to God, completely and entirely, it will be solved.