That poor baby.
Such a little thing.
I wonder what's wrong.
I don't blame them. When I saw sick babies or children, I would try to out myself in their parents shoes. I would think, I don't know what I would do. Well, now I know.
I know that I would cry, a lot. I would hold my sweet baby and touch his little cheek and ball my eyes out because it just hurts. I know that I would be angry and say, why me? I know that I would think about the what if's. I would think about how people pray for their babies to get better all the time and sometimes they just don't. I would wonder if we'd be them, or if I could believe everyone when they say he'll be just fine.
The worst part of it all is the not knowing. The well, it could be this, but it could also be that. When you don't know the problem, you don't have a solution. Right now they're just throwing everything at him and hoping something works/gives us answers.
There's talk of PICU's and pulmonologists and hematologists and all of these words that I don't quite understand. There's information on top of information and so many possibilities that it's hard to wrap my mind around one single thing.
And then, at the end of the day, there's the chance that it's just the biggest, nastiest cold on the face of the planet. I'm praying really hard for the latter. And thank you everyone for your prayers and thoughts. I've honestly felt them, even though this whole situation feels helpless. His fever has gone down and stayed down, which was one of our main concerns, but then a wrench was thrown into the mix when he stopped being able to breathe properly. Then something like this happens
And even though this is far from the way he's been feeling, the rare smiles are made all the more precious because of it. But this is the picture I'm choosing to show you because to me, it means hope. And I have to hope everything is going to be alright.
It just has to be alright.