Home

After six days in the hospital, five longer than we expected, Little Miss and I finally came home yesterday.

After her surgery went so well she took a turn and the next day was diagnosed with pneumonia.

What an ordeal. I'm still trying to process how it is that I've spent an entire week in the hospital.
My days were spent watching monitors, listening to the sounds of beeping things and IV pumps, and staying close by the girl. She required extra Oxygen during much of our time there and yet was slightly intolerant of extra things on her face. So I held her and the Oxygen mask close together while we watched TV, movies and played on the iPad.

Each night we spent awake at different times because monitors were going off or her fever had spiked. Or once because she was trying to get out of bed to get closer to me. Even with the little sleep I got each night I still had the energy and patience I needed us to get us through the day.

One night as I was laying awake holding her I reflected on this. I thought about my husband and children at home. Having spoken with them each day and hearing a little girl ask, "When are you coming home?" I thought about how when I'm home my days are spent making meals, cleaning up after said meals, laundry, driving people places, more meals, more cleaning. It's easy to feel like that is all you're good for when it seems like that is all you do. I realized again, while I lay awake in the middle of the night in a hospital bed, that perhaps I provide more than that. My presence carries more with it than I sometimes think it does. While many times I have felt like I'm failing at motherhood, perhaps I'm not failing as much as I think I am. I know I'm not perfect. And these feelings and thoughts weren't a revalation that I have become such. Instead they were a sweet assurance that my children are loved in ways that I cannot even fathom. And yet so am I.

This week in the hospital I spurprised even myself, while I am usually somewhat of an overreactor, how calm I was. Eventhough I knew her situation was serious I never felt the fear and worry that can come with the unknown. Somehow, even in the monotiny of the situation, the days and nights did not feel endless. Instead of feeling worn down I just thought about how I haven't had to wash a single dish, cook a single meal or wash a single load of laundry. Let me tell you, it was liberating.
Much of the week, though, I have felt gratitute. For my little family. For our health. Even for this somewhat sureal experience.

When we were finally dishcharged Saturday morning the two of us were so very ready. Thankfully she had spent the night off Oxygen, which was kind of our ticket home. She was still eating just ok and not drinking that great but I knew that being home would help both of these things. The closer we got to home the more tired we both became. The exhuastion, for me, was finally settling in. The fact that I had been away from home is still working on settling in.



She isn't yet back to her normal self. She still isn't eating and drinking much. But being home can work wonders. And I know it will for her.

And me too.