Heartsick

Where to begin?

Keira got her tonsils out on the 9th. Surgery went well. The tonsils were enormous, each the size of my fingernail, stuffed in her teeny weenie esophagus. The endoscopy, almost humorously, showed "the healthiest GI track I've seen in 6 months" according to the doc. K stayed the night in the PICU. She slept SO quietly and SO peacefully. No retching. No snoring. Jeff and I were so excited. This could be life changing! Furthermore, Keira set a record by coming home the very next day!

The past week at home has not been a breeze. It's been tricky to keep her comfortable and we're short on hands to hold her. Not short on willing hands so much as hands that K is comfortable with enough that her heart rate decreases, rather than increases, in their care. 

I hate to admit that I had the added stress of wanting K to get better quickly so that we could go on vacation. I want to get out of town as a family so badly. But it was actually kind of a relief when we decided the other day to postpone our trip until after Christmas. Legoland will wait. 

That brings me to yesterday. For days the boys had been wanting me to take them to the library, so I had promised to pick them up from school to take them. When it was time to go, my mom had worked an 8 hour day, so I sent her home and loaded K in the car, even though she was upset, hoping the ride would sooth her. The boys were out of sorts. K continued to be unhappy and the boys' attitudes were bad. Instead of going to the library we went straight home. So I was yelling and everyone else was in tears. 

At home, I worked to make amends. With an unhappy baby on my hip, I talked with the boys about their days. Made  plans for Liam to have some one on one time with Jeff that evening. Just when I was thinking this evening could be redeemed, my "mom alert" sounded. K was working too hard to breathe. I measured her pulse/ox, finding her pulse was too high and her oxygen too low. Seeing that I'd already given her all the meds I could, we needed to go to the ER. 

We've got this part down to a science. Within minutes, Grandma Janie was ready to take the boys and Ronin and Liam had packed an overnight bag. 

Even though Liam would be missing his date with Dad, he kicked it into gear to help out. He turned his frown upside down, so to speak. 

Then Ronin, our tough guy who rarely cries, came up the stairs in tears. I couldn't understand until the third time he said it, "I'm scared of what's going to happen to Keira." As I sat on the floor to hug him, I had a meltdown in my head. "This is my breaking point. I can't do this. It's not fair. I'm going to lose it." Somehow, by the grace of God, before a tear could fall, I was soothing Ronin's worries and moving ahead. 

Jeff and I took K straight to the ER in Boise, to be at the foot of the children's hospital and all of her specialists. Here's a secret: All you have to do to get seen quickly at the ER is utter the words "Respiratory Distress." Magic. It was an excellent ER visit, if there is such thing. The doctor told us almost immediately that he has an 11year old daughter very much like Keira. It was so nice to have a doctor who understands! He was able to meet us where we were right away without us having to bring him up to speed. He even showed us pictures of his little girl and admitted that he was spending way more time in our room than he typically spends with any patient. 

The steroids they gave her in the ER eased her breathing but we decided to admit her lest we have to go back to the ER as soon as the steroids wore off. 

I went home briefly to get some things for the night. My heart was aching. The boys have been 110% amazing from day 1 with everything having to do with their sister. I am well aware of what a blessing that is, and of how hard it can be on a kid to have a sibling like K. This was the FIRST time that I felt like this phased them. We'd had to drop everything and put Keira first. No tacos for dinner. No chance to round out the day after a difficult afternoon. I kept remembering Ro crying and asking me if Keira would die if we stayed at home. But I also remembered Liam saying to his brother, "It's ok to cry," and putting his arm around him as they walked into Grandma's house. Before I left the house, I put an "I love you" note in each of my guys' rooms. I put on my necklace with the 3 charms. One for Liam, one for Ronin, one for Keira. 

I just wanted to be with the boys last night. It's just overwhelming. As I drove back to Boise, I saw many flags at half mast, for the victims in Paris. My night doesn't even compare. So much suffering. I can even comprehend. 

I did something unprecedented last night in that I requested prayer. And thank you to everyone who has been praying. My ideas about prayer are changing. I'm not quite sure how yet, but I suppose I'm trying to exercise it more. Do you ever have that experience where something that you've been hearing or seeing your whole life suddenly becomes much more real to you? Like everything you've heard for so long suddenly rings true in a way it never did before? There should be a word for that (Is there?). Anyway, I'll be giving that more thought. I'm not going to even try to articulate it yet, lest I sound like I'm simply regurgitating a litany I've been fed my whole life. But I will tell you that in my efforts to ease my anxiety and to find peace and rest, I've slowly been reading Sabbath, by Wayne Muller, The Land Between, by Jeff Manion, and Living into Community by Christine Pohl.
Prayer has come to the forefront for me. 

This morning I'm lying in K's hospital bed with her on my chest. She doesn't sound very good, but she's not crying. I guess I'll keep on keeping on. And praying. Much love and appreciation to you all.