It was in the NICU, when they took off his C-pap helmet for his oxygen, when they noticed the bump. A nurse and a Dr both said it was probably nothing. His pediatrician said it was fine. But his Urologist was worried. So, we went to a specialist and she too, wanted to have surgery to take it off, then send it to the lab to make sure it was not cancerous. Now, we're taking him to a different specialist, hoping he has a different theory. Maybe he doesn't need surgery. Maybe it will dissolve and never be a problem.
But honestly, I am afraid. I am SO afraid that the results will come back, that they will call us and tell us we need to come into the office to see the specialist, and that the results found it is indeed cancer. Then they will send us to a cancer specialist, and we all know where that road could possibly lead. Far fetched, I know. Is it likely? Probably not. There's that word again.
But so many children have died. Little children. Babies. I don't think I could remain sane if Rowen had to go through that.
Whatever happens, all I want is for my son to always know we love him. He's gotta' see it in our eyes, in our embrace, and I know he feels it when he drifts off to sleep in our arms late at night. And right now, that's all I care about. That he knows he's loved.
I'm not going to fear Friday. I'm not going to dread the results. I'm going to love my son.
And tomorrow, when he wakes up, I'm going to make sure he feels it.