Noah was admitted to our local hospital at 3pm on the 1st with pneumonia and a fever of over 102. This is probably the most scared that I have ever been in my entire life--even more scared then when I was in danger of loosing him before birth. Because then it was me getting the ivs and bloodwork. It was me being poked and prodded by a plethora of doctors and nurses every 2 hours. It was me. Tonight though, it is him. It is him who has been poked and prodded every few hours since we got here. It is him who is confined to a hospital bed that threatens to swallow him whole. What I wouldn't give to switch places with him right now...
My heart aches. My head hurts. My arms long to hold my baby. Instead, I must settled for rubbing his stomach until he falls asleep. I won't lie...tears have fallen endlessly since this all happened nearly 12 hours ago. "Be strong for Noah" my mom told me. "It is no big deal, you had it at 4 months, remember?" says my dad.
Be strong, my husband repeated as he herded our other children home. Be strong.
I dont want to be strong. I dont want to be the one who has to hold other people up...again and again. Tonight I feel weak. Tonight I feel like I am the one who needs someone else to be strong for a change. I feel like crumbling to the floor in a heap.
But I cant. I have to be strong for Noah. He cant tell the drs what is wrong. He cant fend for himself. I have to be strong.
I try to tell myself that this is nearly over. I promised Noah, that I would do whatever I had to to get him out of here in the morning. And I will.
Tonight....I am strong.