Pack the bag for the road trip.
Get up early, and cry as your baby cries because you can't nurse him.
Try to give him water from a sippy cup when all he wants is to cuddle up next to you and go back to sleep.
Get on the road and make small talk because both of you are scared, and mindless chatter makes the time pass more easily.
Follow a nurse to the room that will start everything, and absently clutch your baby a little closer to your chest just in case someone tries to take him before you're ready.
Go through his awful medical history AGAIN.
Discuss how "routine" this will be, while simultaneously reading the list of possible risks that "never happen."
Marvel at your baby's disinterest in the IV being placed in his arm, and smile politely at the nurse who compliments him on being such "good boy" and all you can think is he's been through so much that puncturing his skin with a needle is nothing.
Hold him while they administer the medication that puts him into an instant state of deep sleep.
Hand him over to a stranger (and hope, silently that for just these two hours that this person could love your baby as much as you do.)
Walk. Out. Of. The. Room. And immediately understand the saying, "the decision to have a child is to accept that your heart will forever walk around outside your body."
Go to a waiting room and pretend that you are interested in the magazines or the latest internet story.
Pace back and forth and back and forth and back and forth.
Steal glances at your spouse every once in awhile and catch him doing the same thing.
FINALLY the pager buzzes and you get to go back...
But WAIT! What does "back" mean? What are we going "back" to?
Sure it was a "routine" test, we don't know the meaning of that word anymore.
We know what it's like to watch your baby slip away from you.
What if after I make the walk down this endless hallway, the baby I see is not mine?
What if he doesn't make the scrunchy face anymore? What if he doesn't remember our games we play?
What if something went wrong...again?
But, no, this is crazy. It's a ROUTINE test. You're making it all up in your head. But, wait...you look at your husband and see your fears mirrored in his eyes.
Deep breath...there he is...and there's that SMILE.
It's MY baby. HIS eyes, HIS smile, HIS reach for Mommy.
Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!!!
Hold him to your chest and realize how very lucky you are in that moment.
And that moment is all we need, because it's all we will ever have.