night

I went back and forth on posting this. I hate to dwell on the negative, but really it's there mixed in with all the good.

When I went into Emma's room around 11pm I didn't expect to find anything wrong. I just needed to give her the medications that she gets each night and then I'd let her go back to sleep. Often times I give them to her in her crib and she rolls over and is back asleep before I leave the room. Tonight was different. I could hear her breathing when I went in her room and as I looked at her she tossed and turned. That got me for a moment but the deciding factor in picking her up was the smell from her diaper. I took her out to the family room and changed her diaper then cleaned out her nose. It was plugged with dried snot and she's a nose breather so she was having a lot of difficulty breathing. When I started to suction it she wasn't happy and started crying. A few minutes later I gave her her medicines (a total of 4 at the moment) and then some saline drops to help keep her nose clear. Then I picked her up and rocked her, walked her, snuggled her, and she kept crying.

Finally we sat in the rocking chair in the living room and we rocked. She calmed fairly soon after we began rocking. I stared into her eyes and she surprised me by staring right back. Her breathing was still fast- very much like an infant- and I didn't want to put her down. We rocked for an hour. Finally I couldn't hold my own head up and wasn't very comfortable in the wooden rocker so I took the tiny, sweet, almost-sleeping baby girl into the family room to sit in the reclining part of the couch. We snuggled up.

She went back to sleep and actually got into a deeper sleep. I watched her, rubbed her head and back, snuggled her in tight, and all my fears of losing her came right up to the surface. The idea that this is only the beginning or what if we make the wrong choice combined with what will we do if even the 'big dogs' say she's inoperable? and so many other fears. Instead of thinking on those, I too went to sleep. Me and my Emma. I'll always treasure that night, even with the fears that surfaced. She was so calm and beautiful sleeping on my chest with her hand raised up to touch my neck. So peaceful.

A few hours later- I'm really not sure when- Mike came in and brought her back to her bed. At 5am I woke and went to bed myself. Seven thirty was an early morning after a long night, but Miss Emma is awake, happy, breathing fine, and loving life today. It never ceases to amaze me how the light of day can so drastically change a situation. My active little one is rolling around the family room, interacting with her brothers and sister, and just as lovely as she was yesterday.

I suppose the realization of her condition hits at different moments and this time it was on a dark night with rapid breathing and fluttering eyes that were so intent on mine. Then the light of day is a reminder of HOPE. And that yes, everything's gonna be ok.