Just waiting

Everyday I wait for the postman. Everytime the phone rings, my heart jumps. Why? I've not developed a secret passion for postie or being stalked on the phone but I know any day now, little blonde's results of his gastroendoscopy will arrive and it will be final, beyond belief that he has coeliac disease. I'm still struggling, you see. He seems to have accepted it, in the same way that all little boys believe that rockets really can go to the moon and polar bears are real. I just want to scream and shout that it's not fair, not my son, not my precious last born. Logically I know that I am lucky as it won't kill him but emotionally I'm cross and I feel guilt- I'm a mother. But that is my internal battle that he must never see. Superficially, we are set. He has his own toaster, own breadmaker, own saucepan, own sieve, the list goes on and on. I buy gluten free products in shops, reeling at the cost. I've even bought a cookbook, which I am sure will be fantastic, if I can just bring myself to cook from it. I love cooking, I love baking either alone or with the blondes and I just can't see how I'm going to be able to carry on enjoying it so much. But, I know I will and my reward will be little blonde growing big and strong. See, I can and am positive but I also know that tomorrow could be the day the letter arrives or the Doctor rings.