Alone tonight...

Our sweet 3 came to visit their littlest buddy

and {insert happy sigh...} it was nice to squeeze them.

Matt went home tonight.
Needed to be a Daddy.
Bless him.
.
He is so confident that all will be well.
He is so sure.
So faithful.
I am in awe of his strength.
.
I, on the other hand, am a trainwreck.
.

.
All over the place.
The nights are harder than the days.
That is when I find myself falling apart.
People keep saying I am doing so well. I am so strong. I am amazing.
Hog wash to all of you.
.
As evidence, let me share this little diddy for your reading enjoyment...
So the other night
(We'll call it Night 3 because the days and nights all blend together here
and well, to be honest, I'm not even sure exactly what day it is right now.)
I was up late. I was tired.
Scratch that... I was exhausted.
And emotionally drained.
(In hind sight, I realize that NOW.
But at the TIME, I had fooled myself into thinking I was handling things quite well.)
However, I was driven... focused.
It was the night I decided to start posting to our blog.
To spread the word.
To preserve a record.
To process through everything that was happening.
To keep my mind off things.
And well, let's be honest, if you know me, you know I always need a project.
So I cozied up in a corner recliner in B's Room with my Laptop.
And as I hacked my guts out onto the screen, I sobbed.
The poor Night Nurse (always in the Room in the PICU) kept asking if I was okay.
I was fine.
Couldn't he see I was fine?
Duh.
So I ran into some hiccups.
There was an issue when I added the the photos to my post and it messed up the formatting.
Then the autosave failed.
I could not get the text to copy and paste to a new post.
I had to drag and drop it one section at a time.
I was near-finished in the wee hours but nodded off at my Laptop.
Cody, the Night Nurse came to tell me it was 7 am.
Time for parents and visitors to leave the room for an hour during shift change and assessments.
I hate that hour. It is misery to leave his bedside.
I went and got a yogurt from where I'd stashed them in the Nutrition Center fridge.
Then choked down a banana.
I went potty and brushed my teeth.
I washed my face in the sink.
It was only 7:15.
I still had 45 minutes until I could return to Bronson's room.
I snuck in and snagged a blanket.
It is always cold here. I've been an ice cube since we arrived.
I wrapped myself up in a little cocoon and sunk down on the floor
to wait until I could be readmitted to the room.
But I was just so tired! So so so tired!
The next theing I knew, Ian, the Daytime Nurse was crouching above me.
Sleeping on the cold tile floor in the hallway outside Bronson's room.
Telling me I had to wake up.
Telling me to go to bed.
Telling me to look at him and asking could I hear him
as I lay silently, unresponsively staring at the floor.
I looked up into his eyes and the floodgate broke.
"Don't make me leave him! Please don't make me leave him!
That's why we're in this mess in the first place! I just can't ever leave him!"
I sobbed.
Bless his heart.
He literally scooped me up beneath the armpits,
from the puddle of a person I was on the floor,
wrapped me a little tighter in my blanket,
walked with,
well okay, practically carried me
down the hall to the parent sleeping cells,
found Matt
and tucked me into bed.
Yeah... like I said.
Trainwreck.
.
Thinking back now I shake my head at how pathetic it all must have seemed.
But now, with Matt gone, I feel so alone.
And as I watch that tiny boy sleeping,
I feel that familar tightness firing up in my throat
and have to swallow down the tears.
.
And then I remember that I am not alone at all.
There are hundreds of you awake with me, praying.
An army petitioning our loving Father.
Enough to get my little train back on the track and chugging up the hill...
For now.
Many thanks~
A hug to each of you.