Yesterday afternoon we took you to the children’s ER because you were running a fever of 100.4. That may not sound very high, but you’re so little that the pediatrician’s procedure is to send you straight to the ER, do not pass GO. The words the nurse used on the phone were, “Young babies can turn septic so quickly…” Just what your mama’s ears needed to hear.
Now that the experience is behind us and we are back home safe and sound, your temperature back to normal as you snooze comfortably in my arms, I can see the blessings in the midst of the frightening.
On the way to the hospital, while I was internally lamenting not building our house on the hospital’s roof for quick and easy access, your sister and I prayed a decade of the Rosary. Then a Memorare. Then a Hail Holy Queen. Then a litany of every saint I could think of (including your sister’s requests for the mommy saints, the daddy saints, the big sister saints, and the baby saints). Outside of Mass, I’m not sure I’ve ever said so many prayers with your sister. I have no idea why not. The peace in the car was almost palpable.
Your daddy left work right away to come join us at the hospital. He called Uncle Joe to let him know what was happening, and without being asked Joe immediately said he would meet us there. At the hospital, as we waited for the doctor, I posted on social media about what was going on. Right away the offers to help flooded in from our friends. Uncle Joe eventually took your sister home and cared for her through the evening. We are so blessed to have such a loving community here.
After you had some Tylenol in you and you got some rest, you smiled and gurgled at the nurses and doctors, melting their hearts instantly. YOU were a blessing to them, even as they blessed us with their skilled and careful work. Who knows what they had witnessed that day in the course of their shifts? The scariest part for me wasn’t when your temperature hit 101.5 or when they put an IV in your tiny hand. No, the scary part was watching terribly sick children parade by our door on hospital beds. Those nurses and doctors see so much suffering. You lightened their load.
Finally, last night reminded me once again that you are not mine. You have just been entrusted to me for a time. I am not in control. God loves you more than I ever could, sweetheart, and yet it’s so hard for me to trust Him with you. Baby steps. Let it be done to us according to His will.
I love you. I’m so glad you are safe,