Let me start off by saying this is something I never thought anyone would say to me.
Easter Sunday, as we were heading back home, M shocked me. He reached over the center console of our car, took my hand in his, and told me, “You’re my hero.” [You have to be aware I’m crying as I’m writing this, just as I teared up when he said that.]
It came down to a bunch of, “You’ve been through a lot in the past year or so,” and still . . . I just don’t feel that way. Logically, I know I have been through more than most people. Starting with August 2010, I had a mini stroke, LB was born two weeks early due to high blood pressure and then spent 20 days in the NICU, I had tests to determine the Moyamoya diagnosis at the beginning of 2011, met with a surgeon and a stroke neurologist, had more tests, and finally, two surgeries. [Whoa. Looking at that, that’s a lot of stuff.]
It’s not that I’m trying to blow it off as nothing, because I’m not. I just think that maybe, my husband is kind of crazy for calling me his hero. I didn’t have the surgeries to be a hero. I had them because I have a family [including two children] and many, many friends who care about me and I didn’t want to let them down by being selfish and leaving anything up to chance. I know I’ve said I know God won’t give me more than I can handle but I often wonder why He trusts me so much. In thinking back on all of this, it was nothing short of a test of faith. I won’t say I’ve made it through with flying colors, but man, have I learned being selfish is not an option.
I struggled with the idea of having surgery both times. The first time I was crippled with fear, but I knew I had to leave it up to God and my doctors to take care of me. The second time, I flat out said two days before the surgery that I wasn’t doing it. And then Butter told me, “Mommy, I just want you to be better now.” The honesty of children is a beautiful thing [sometimes]. At that moment, it was, to me, as though he was channeling a higher power and saying, “Don’t be selfish, lady.”
The long and short of this is, I love that my husband considers me his hero. But I certainly don’t feel like one.