Two nights, in hell. The hospital smelled as odd as ever and my son was poked and pinned out. It was about four in the morning when I started to wonder how many kids died in that same room. How many are still there? It had been a while since I even though of the idea of sleep. I couldn't keep my eyes off his monitor. 122, 125..119... he seemed to be ok. He was getting enough o2, but I couldn't help it. I broke. His little hands were sticking partially out of the crib and I held on with one finger. His tiny little feet were wrapped in gauze and his eyes were puffy from crying. I am so sorry, Elijah. I know it must suck ass! I went off the "What if's?" for a time before I realized there was nothing I could do. My baby was sick and that was the death of me. I watched Junior and my son sleep and I wondered how long will this hell last? I thought of you, diary. I missed writing my babbling ideas and blown out of proportion thoughts of nothingness that tended to always be something to me. I wanted to describe the steam of medication they put in my sons face, and the IV that stuck out his fat little leg that made him completely uncomfortable. I could see that he cried himself to sleep. I wanted to do the same so bad, but I had to be the strong one. After all, my boys were counting on me. Not only was this the first time he had gotten sick, but it was the first time he'd slept away from me. That crushed me. I wanted my little bundle of love cuddling into my arms so I can kiss his forehead all night and listen to him coo in his dreams. I missed him so much, Diary. I can't even tell you. I found my weakness inside his pain, and I still managed to keep from crying. At least until everyone was asleep.
Now I'm home. I managed to clean the house and ship out that stupid HSN guitar. We're making beef stew and my son is sleeping soundly inside our bed ... our bed. I never want to go through that again. All I want to do is hold him for the rest of his life. But what I came to understand is that I can't protect him from everything. How miserable this has made me. But I have now. I have him. I have love.
xoxo qui
4:57 p.m. - 2003-02-24
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