Tomorrow

Tomorrow is the day I've been dreading since Kaylee was a tiny little thing. Tomorrow I will place my daughter in the hands of doctors and nurses (many of which I've never met) and trust them to do what's best for her. They will use medicine put her to sleep, put a small metal probe down through the corner of her eye and place a small piece of rubber tubing into her newly-opened tear duct.

In my head, I know that this is a very common, routine procedure and that it is what's best for Kaylee. My heart, on the other hand, is sad and frightened. At this point, all I can do is love my daughter and send thoughts of steady hands and safety to her doctor.

I can also look forward to not seeing my baby wake up with one eye crusted over. I can look forward to not pissing off my daughter by massaging her poor, swollen eye and clearing the gunk away. I can look forward to not receiving questions and comments from total strangers in the grocery store. I can look forward to knowing that the choices we made were the right ones.