Echoes, Friends and Bravery

It's been one of those weeks. The echo came back normal. We are relieved for now - until the next one. Louie did fairly well...we made fools of ourselves singing "Old MacDonald", blaring Elmo on the DVD and putting a spinney, flashy light thing in his face the whole time. The endocrinologist was a different story. Louie's veins are tiny which makes drawing blood excruciatingly difficult. His cry said clearly "You are my parents and I can't believe you are letting three nurses hold me down and stick needles into my arms. For crying out loud, how could you?" I have never heard such distress in his voice. I felt sick to my stomach. What a pitiful sight on the way home - in his car seat, his hair all matted with tears, and his Winnie the Pooh "I Pitched a Fit" sticker haphazardly stuck to his shirt.

I told my friend about this string of doctor appointments and she commented that she could never do it and that I was brave. But I'm not. I'm not brave at all. We just deal with what we have to deal with. It's hard to know what to say to someone when you ask how their week went and the person goes on and on about violent blood work episodes and echo cardiogram reports. Seriously, what do you say to that? "Ummm...I'm sorry? That sounds crappy?" And what she said was perfect but the thing is, she has twins. I think she's pretty brave herself. I can't imagine what it must be like for her. Just as she can't imagine what it's like for me. But we try. We try our very best to put ourselves on the other side, to relate, to say the right words at the right times. But when it comes down to it, I think the most important thing friends do for one another is to press their ear against the phone (or in my case, iPhone - sorry I just had to say it. I freaking love that phone!) that is balanced on a shoulder, trying to feed one child while the other runs around the house completely naked because she has learned how to take her clothes (and diaper) off. It's amazing how much time goes by without seeing or sometimes even talking to our friends and it further amazes me that they are still there when you come up for a breath on the other side. I love that. I love knowing they are there and they understand when I might be swimming underwater for a while.

To live in this world, we all have to be a little brave. For those moments we turn a corner and boom, there's that stomach-sinker when we learn we didn't get the job. And we thought it was the perfect job. When our children are sick and one is throwing up on you while the other's diaper leaks all over the place and you're eight months pregnant and you have 20 emails to return and 4 estimates to complete before work tomorrow. There are those bring-you-to-your-knees devastating moments, when we discover we've had a miscarriage or a parent has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's or when you learn your child has Williams syndrome. And all the while, we try to be strong. We have to be. There simply is no other choice. And fortunately we have these friendships, whether new or old, far away or close, blogger friends or best friends, who help us get through it. And remind us that we are brave.