Willy has been anxiously awaiting the call from his doctor to let him know the date for his ear surgery. His excitement was tempered a little when a January call to the doctor resulted in him being told that he could expect to be notified of the date sometime in the next three to nine months! So he waited and hoped it would come sooner. I know that it is something he thinks of often, and not just when we both get frustrated when he can’t hear what I say, but also when he tries to plan for family and work during the recovery period.
I was excited to get a call from his doctor’s office when he was in India, excited until they told me the date of his surgery. It was proposed for this coming Monday, March 18th. Willy would be in town, and likely ecstatic to hear that it was so soon, my heart sank. I was planning on going to Dallas on the 19th, a trip with two friends that I have been planning for 6 months, and really, really looking forward to. I debated not telling him that they had called at all, but I knew that I could not do that to him, so I offered to stay home, even though it was really, really hard.
His immediate reaction was that I had to keep my plans, so we started to strategize how we could make it happen. Willy has already had this surgery done on one ear, so we know that the first week consists of him “recovering” in bed. He can’t really move around too much, and can’t lift anything over ten pounds. Asking either of our mothers to care for three children (one of whom is essentially helpless) seemed like too much.
The truth is, after Willy told me that he still wanted me to go to Dallas, my heart really wasn’t into our discussions about how to make it work if I still went. I had offered to stay behind, but I really wanted him to turn me down. We talked about having someone help, but I might have oversold how much work he was post-surgery last time (he did sleep eighteen hours a day for a week, after all). When we looked into ways that I could leave a bit later for my trip, my heart wasn’t anywhere near committed to that option. I want this trip, this adventure, and I don’t want to give it up. It’s selfish and I feel guilty, but not guilty enough…
I get it. I would definitely feel guilty, but under these circumstances, I can’t blame you one bit. You have been planning and looking forward to this for months. Trips aren’t easy to plan when you are a parent. And even though your husband has been waiting for this surgery, it doesn’t help anyone when doctors give you a huge window then say “ok, come in on Monday!”
That’s worse than waiting all day for the cable guy.
As mothers, we create a lot of guilt for ourselves in so many circumstances, but why? So what if we are upset our plans were ruined. You aren’t being a raging, horrendous shrew about it. You are trying to be accommodating. Don’t feel bad. It’s completely reasonable to feel this way.
I don’t know what the right solution is for you, but I do know that no matter what you end up doing, you did it with everyone’s best interests with the goal of all people involved being happy. Even you! And there’s nothing wrong with that. Good luck!
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