The silver lining in the cloud.
BB’s operation was in medical terms, a success. I am not sure BB would describe it as such but medically she should have a happy hip in years to come.
The day started at four am and finished at nine pm; my daughter handled herself with a gentle grace that made me swell with pride. She beamed at the anaesthetic and floated off to sleep with a smile tingling on her lips. She awoke with a chatter and regaled the nurses with gibberish tales of her drug induced dreams, pausing only to shed a tear when she saw her mummy arrive.
She is scared, I see her fear in her eyes when we lift her from the bed, this new weight binds her legs and she is too little to really understand.
She is brave, she has coped with every wire, every probe, every check. She has yanked at my heart when she has smiled her thanks to the team looking after her.
And did you know, when she sleeps the heart monitor shows us her heart beats about 100 times a minute. When she sleeps and we lay our lips on her forehead trying to erase her pain with a kiss her heart beats just a little bit faster.
What an incredible way for the heart to say I love you.