The Call

The tile felt cool beneath my feet.  Just the sight of my own shower refreshed my weary body.  It had been weeks since I’d been in my own bathroom.  I just couldn’t leave Daisy, ill at the hospital to indulge myself with a hot shower.  Four days ago, when Daisy was officially placed on the transplant waiting list, her surgeon told us we should expect to wait three months.  So on this relatively quiet Wednesday afternoon, after getting the reassurance of one of our favorite nurses who was caring for Daisy that day, I decided to slip away to rejuvenate my mind and body for a couple of hours.  I set my phone down on the counter, in view of the shower.  I couldn’t silence or step away from my phone even for a minute; the call could come at any time.  As I turned toward the shower my phone rang, a number I didn’t recognize.  It could have been any number of doctors or specialists, our sweet nurse calling to reassure me with a Daisy update, or even a telemarketer.

“Hello?”  I said.

“We have a heart for Daisy”.  The voice on the phone was calm and strong.

“Ok.”

It was all I could muster.  I hung up.  The moment felt as if an anvil had been dropped on me, heavy and crushing.  I collapsed under the weight the news.  I couldn’t move.

All I could do was weep.  I wept for joy that Daisy may have another chance.  I wept in sorrow that another sweet baby had lost its fight.  I wept, worrying about another intense surgery for my infant.  I wept in sadness for the mother who lost her beloved baby.  I wept in gratitude for the professionals who labored tirelessly on our behalf, for doctors and nurses who cared for Daisy as if she was their own baby.  I wept, with renewed hope for the future.  I wept and I wept and I wept.  And, at times, I still weep.

2 Comment

  1. Betty Johnson says: Reply

    Amazing. Amazing writer. Amazing mother. AMAZING Daisy. Amazing

  2. Angela says: Reply

    You have so beautifully captured this incredible moment. Bravo!

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