Thank you!

I want to begin with a big sigh of relief, and a huge THANK YOU to everyone. Thank you for thinking of us, thank you for praying for Carly, thank you for being our support. To say last week was hard, is an understatement. It gave me insight and deep, deep understanding of what parents who have children who are ill go through. Although Carly's hospitalization was difficult, and traumatizing for me, I can only begin to imagine want numerous other parents go through as their children try to fight through other illnesses, diseases, and difficult diagnoses. As a parent, having a sick child is one of the hardest things you will experience.

I have decided a few things over the past seven days. The staff at a children's hospital are wonderful. They understand that they are working with kids, and parents who are tired, sad, confused, overwhelmed. However, I have decided that no matter how nice the staff is, a children's hospital is not a happy place. At all. The walls are happy, people smile, but children are sick. Hooked up to machines. In beds. Beepers are going off everywhere. It definitely took a toll on my soul. Big time.

I have also decided that I have a few more things to add to my been there done that list for life, and I don't need to do it again. Ever. Driving to the ER with a child who is having a hard time breathing, and I can't do anything about it. Sitting in the ER for 4 hours until 1:30 in the morning--not knowing what is wrong with her. Riding in an ambulance to the Children's Hospital at 2 in the morning, in the dark, while my baby is the back and I am up front, because that is the "rule." Arriving at a hospital in the middle of the night that I have never been to before trying to be brave for Carly, but falling apart inside every second. Trying to listen to all of the directions, information by myself. I insisted Ryan go home after the ER for Dylan and Emma when they woke up. I wanted them to have a normal morning and for life to stay as regular as possible for them. So, I went up in the ambulance on my own. I was a mess.

I cried, Carly screamed. We slept together for five nights. Me in the chair, her on my chest. The bond between a mother and a child is truly the strongest bond you will ever find. I have also decided this--the power of prayer is overwhelming. All healing. You could just feel it in our room each day with Carly. Everyone was praying for her. For us. Every time they poked her in the ER or she needed a new IV, Ryan held her. When he wasn't there, I did it. We cried. Both of us. We are the ones that are supposed to help, to save our children, while we are holding them down to get pricked or have tubes put in their nose. All the while it is to make them better, the look on their faces while we are restraining them, it cuts you to the core. The tears just fall without warning. In the ER Carly was covered in my tears. Me, I had her blood on my pants from the"heel sticks" and two IVs they ran. I hated it. All of it. It seems that all week we just alternated between crying, and holding our breath. Waiting. Asking questions. Asking again. Relaying the story. Relaying it again.

I am blessed. Blessed to have three children that are healthy. That have the ability to fight, that have immune systems that allow them to fight. I realize now more than ever, this is not a blessing shared by all. That we need to sometimes look deep to find the blessings in our own situations. That we are all blessed differently. Life is not always fair. There is a message in all of life's sitations, somewhere. The message in this one? I think it's to count the blessings I have, but there may be more. I will have to get back to you on that one. For now, I am going to hug the three greatest blessings I have ever had. Thank you!