So this afternoon my six year old son is going under the knife. Even though I show a nonchalant, “he’ll be fine” attitude to the whole procedure, silently I am scared out of my mind.
It’s a routine procedure, and he should be home only hours after waking up from the anesthetics. It is more common among young boys than one would realize, so I KNOW that there is no need to worry. But that doesn’t change the fact that I AM worrying and even though I attempt to distract myself, (naturally by crocheting. I managed to whip up three bookmarks in an hour! Pics to come when I figure out how to get them from my phone to the computer! 😀 ) the unnecessary worries hit me full force when I least expect it.
Naturally I will put on the brave face for the Kid. I tell him that there is no need to worry and that he is a strong boy, and if he couldn’t handle it then God would not have allowed him to go through this. I say all this in a way that he should feel proud that he IS strong enough to handle something like this, when the average six-year-old would be freaking out.
Now if only Mom could believe her own words.