Today has been one of the hardest days I’ve had in a long time. I’ve cried so much—like nonstop tears, the kind where your head hurts, and you just feel completely drained. I didn’t even want to post about it on Instagram because, honestly, it’s too much right now. Writing here feels safer, like I can let it all out without worrying about keeping it together.

Oakley’s next surgery is officially happening. The forms are signed, and the team is moving forward. And I am terrified. The surgery may be six hours long. Six hours of my baby under anesthetic, and all I can do is sit there and wait. The thought of it makes my stomach flip—I feel physically sick every time I think about it. They’ll be separating his middle and ring fingers and working to reconstruct his hand. I know he needs it, but that doesn’t make it any easier. It doesn’t stop the “what ifs” from running wild in my head.