Back into limbo go our little frosties, as life throws us a doozie of a curve ball and we try to figure out what we should do with the pitch.
Our sweet dog, Coda (the Wonder Mutt) was badly injured more than a month ago while boarded when we were on vacation. He had been making painfully slow progress the past few weeks. Our vet encouraged us to be patient, but we didn't feel good about how he was healing, and we sought a second opinion from the University of Florida Veterinary Hospital. They are the "big dogs" around here (so to speak) and have a whole soft tissue department that specializes in the kind of injuries that Coda sustained. He had an appointment there today, and the news was not entirely good. Because of the nature and location of his wounds, there are no guarantees that he is treatable. They are going to attempt a skin graft on his left elbow, probably Friday, and then keep him another week to do follow up. (For us to run him back and forth is two hours each way, and the logistics of twice-a-day bandage changes are literally impossible.) So he has been admitted and will be there for about 2 weeks. We are all really concerned about Coda, and I am tortured by just knowing that despite being in pain he was so HAPPY to just be at home cozied up with his family, and I know he is terrified and lonely in a cage in an unfamiliar place where he is going to be put through multiple procedures. Most of all I am worried that things are not going to go well and that we will never see him again.
Which leads me to our pickle.
Spending all this time in a veterinary hospital and having at least one major surgery is not free. Not even close.
And neither is completing this FET.
What has been paid for are all the tests, consultations, and hysteroscopy.
What remains is the meds and the actual transfer.
And at some point we will need to eat. And pay our mortgage. And our car payments. And the kids tuition, and the utilities, and gas, and the kids prepaid college, and and and.
And Dearest has an awesome job and has done very well providing for our family. But the line has to be drawn somewhere, no?
So we are taking a moment. And reassessing adding to our family. Coda was here first, and he is where our obligation lies. Maybe in a week we will know more and be better able to make a final decision, but at the moment the FET is on hold, and its hard for me to know where my heartbreak over the dog ends and my disappointment over not giving those little snowbabies a chance begins.
A little flicker of sweetness to end with, though. I was a little choked up thinking about Coda when Soph came cavorting into the room tonight, and she froze in her tracks and looked at me, wide-eyed, for a long moment. "Mama, what happened? What happened to you? Why are you crying?" she asked me. I told her I was just worried about Coda and sad that he was not home with us. She threw her little arms around my neck and told me, "It will be better, Mama. I know that you are sad but things will be better, ok? Don't worry." It wasn't long before Liv walked in and Sophie was quick to tell her, "Mama's sad, because she is worried about Coda. She was crying, Liv." Olivia patted my head and told me "I love you Mom. Don't cry."
It was the first time my children have ever comforted ME. (In truth, it was only the second time they have ever seen me cry. I'm not much of a crier.) And it was incredibly wonderful, seeing my kids display this empathy.
And I know that no matter what happens, I am lucky. And it is going to be ok.