If I'm Being Honest
I've had a lot of love today. Everyone asks, hugs, smiles, and just lets me know that Mason is in their prayers. I can't really ask for anything more. That's all we need -- the help of the Lord. I actually made it through all three hours of church before either a) leaving to see Mason in the hospital or b) sobbing uncontrollably (just a couple glistening tears toward the end there.) For the past three days, Mason's nurses have reported a-ok feeding status, with small exceptions (the kind of exceptions that would throw me into a complete panic, but seem not to phase them.) So, all in all, I'd say it was a successful day... except for that one moment at the hospital where I was feeding Mason and he stopped breathing.
Again? Can a girl catch a break with you, my little one? The nurses came right in to check on me, mostly. They knew Mason would be fine, but they knew I wouldn't. I tried my best and successfully held back the tears. If I'm being completely honest, the tears have almost stopped... I almost feel like everyday is a dream. A blur. A day in the twilight zone. Life almost feels unreal. Am I here in the hospital still? Is this really my baby? How did I get here? Is this even my life? I don't sleep much here at home; my mind is just a mishmash of thought and emotion.
I need to really focus on all the positive from now on. It's so easy to just dwell on the worst. It seems like an impossible situation most of the time. "Take comfort in knowing he will be ok and that you know how to handle his episodes." Yes, I suppose I can find comfort in that, except for the part about him having "episodes." I need to just repeating the words, "He will be ok, he will be ok, he will be ok..."
Mason is fine in the care of his stellar nurses. And they have all the confidence in the world that he will be fine in mine and Steve's care. But, do they realize what a head-case I am? How can I care for a baby that periodically stops breathing and expect to get even a wink of sleep in between? Blah.
Faith will prevail. I know it will -- it just has to.
Alright, that's enough for now. Just had to clear my head a bit. Adios, Debbie Downer. Tomorrow is a new day, and for that I am grateful.
Again? Can a girl catch a break with you, my little one? The nurses came right in to check on me, mostly. They knew Mason would be fine, but they knew I wouldn't. I tried my best and successfully held back the tears. If I'm being completely honest, the tears have almost stopped... I almost feel like everyday is a dream. A blur. A day in the twilight zone. Life almost feels unreal. Am I here in the hospital still? Is this really my baby? How did I get here? Is this even my life? I don't sleep much here at home; my mind is just a mishmash of thought and emotion.
I need to really focus on all the positive from now on. It's so easy to just dwell on the worst. It seems like an impossible situation most of the time. "Take comfort in knowing he will be ok and that you know how to handle his episodes." Yes, I suppose I can find comfort in that, except for the part about him having "episodes." I need to just repeating the words, "He will be ok, he will be ok, he will be ok..."
Mason is fine in the care of his stellar nurses. And they have all the confidence in the world that he will be fine in mine and Steve's care. But, do they realize what a head-case I am? How can I care for a baby that periodically stops breathing and expect to get even a wink of sleep in between? Blah.
Faith will prevail. I know it will -- it just has to.
Alright, that's enough for now. Just had to clear my head a bit. Adios, Debbie Downer. Tomorrow is a new day, and for that I am grateful.
Comments
"Trust in the Lord with all thine heart" I love that scripture.