“Surgery went well. He is in the recovery room now, so you guys can head up and I’ll meet you in there.” The surgeon smiled at us. Jake and I took a breath for the first time in 7 hours. We looked at each other with tears in our eyes. He was ok. It felt good knowing this brain surgery went as well as the last. We walked into the room and saw him hooked up to every machine imaginable. He was still sleeping. After a couple hours he was still asleep and hadn’t woken up yet. I started to get a little concerned. His last brain surgery he woke up as soon as we said his name. This time no one could. The surgeon came in and tried waking him up. Roughly….a little too rough for me. He ended up pinching his shoulder in the muscle. Finally Zayne’s face winced in pain and he started crying. I relaxed just a little finally knowing he was ABLE to be woken up. “He wasn’t moving his left side in surgery so I just want to check a couple things.” He asked Zayne to move his left leg. Zayne fell back asleep. The surgeon woke him up again and asked very loudly for Zayne to move his limbs. His right leg wiggled. “Move this leg Zayne.” As he tapped his left leg. My stomach turned. Nothing. He ran his fingers up and down the bottom of his foot. I felt my pulse rise and the sweat bead on my back. Nothing. He became more aggressive and pinched some pressure point in hopes to get some reaction. Zayne’s foot moved ever so slightly. The surgeon seemed relieved. Jake and I on the other hand became more concerned. His left arm on did nothing. The doctor decided to try again when he woke up a little more. Zayne never really woke up anymore. He slept for so long. Long enough to allow my thoughts to run. Before the surgery I had a vision. One of those you have when you’re not sleeping but not awake. I saw myself leaning over Zayne’s bed holding his left hand asking it to move, asking him to wake up. Begging God to give me my son back if he was to be himself and struggling to let him go if God had other plans. The war inside me was so strong in the vision. I began singing over him as tears flowed down my cheeks. I held his fingers to my lips and prayed to God that my kisses would heal. What if he doesn’t wake up? What if they hit something in his brain and he doesn’t have his fun, loving personality anymore? What if he can’t walk? What if…… the list went on and on in my head. I tried to be strong and brave while feeling these feelings. I had to know that God had a plan. I had to believe. I had to CHOOSE to believe. I didn’t know how long it would be until I felt peace but pleaded with God that it wouldn’t be too long.