Peace.

Have you ever had one of those times that didn’t SEEM like it was as hard as it was until after you were through it? And then in the absence of the hardness you realize that it was actually really fricking hard and it sucked?

That is me today, regarding yesterday.

Having to have a conversation with Kendall’s doctor about how we felt like she was looking, and admitting that she was not doing as well as we had hoped, that was hard. It was hard to know she was REALLY sick and was REALLY in pain/discomfort and there was absolutely NOTHING we could do to make it better. It was hard to not know what was making her so sick and if we were doing the right thing to try to help her. It was hard to have the intubation team gathered outside of Kendall’s room waiting for her to hopefully not crash while we tried to beg the OR (Operating Room) schedulers to clear a room for Kendall NOW. It was hard to be functional on absolutely zero sleep from spending the night at her bedside helping her deal with the nonstop vomiting and shaking from the fevers.

It was just really really hard.

It was still hard even after the decisions had been made. Even after the OR team came to take her down to surgery, and the consents had been signed and the carefully crafted plan written out and gone over with each team member….It was hard to leave her at the door of the OR suite and lean down and kiss her goodbye. It was hard to know that she would not be awake when she came back to us. It was hard to think about the battle that lay before her and the surgeon with her body in such a sick compromised state. It was hard to not think about “the last time” we had signed her over for this surgery, and the utter chaos that ensued after it had happened.

It was hard when she came back to the room last night, and there were teams of people on either side of her bed and at the foot and head of her bed, all working in a carefully choreographed dance of tubes, wires, pumps, medicines to hook her up to the ventilator, to the room monitors, to the meds that are keeping her heart pumping and her veins strong and the fluid in the right place and fighting the bugs. It was really really hard to be in here. I clutched the back of the chair until I heard the team lead call out the orders indicating that she was fully switched over to the PICU and no longer the OR team’s and then i ran from the room. I hate that i do not have the strength to stay in there and watch her at those times. But the emotions were threatening to overwhelm me and I try to never ever ever cry in her room, I keep it as a place of peace and happiness as much as possible. I ran down that hallway and i found the secluded bathroom and i shut the door and i slid down the wall and i felt the cool tile and i tried to just breathe…breathe. In and out. focus.

And when I had gathered up enough strength to come back, I walked back down the hall to where the controlled chaos was still going on and I stood just outside of her room, watching these amazing people who know exactly what each line is for and where it goes and how to order meds in just the right doses to keep a very crazy and unpredictable kid in a happy place. And one of the other nurses comes up behind me and grabs my hand and puts into it a pile of candy. She told me it was from another mom down the hall, another very strong momma who i am blessed to know, whose daughter is also here battling some nasty bugs with a body that is broken more often than not. And then that nurse pulled me into a hug, and whispered into my ear that kendall was gonna be ok. And that miss M (the other warrior princess) was gonna be ok, and that our girls were fighters. And I just leaned into her arms and let her hold me up for a minute.

These are glimpses into what life is like up here in the alternative universe known as the PICU. Food and candy and hugs – these are all we have to show our thanks as the parents of the babies who these amazing people work so hard every day to save. Our nurse the last couple days – she sat on the trashcan at Kendall’s bedside for almost three straight hours yesterday. Knowing in the way that only the best seasoned nurses know things that something was desperately wrong with Kendall – and working in the way that is unique to her to let anyone and everyone know that it was NOT ok to keep letting kendall suffer. The doctor who she complained to the loudest is the one who has saved kendall’s life a couple of times, and knows enough to know that something WAS going very wrong with kendall but she wasn’t making it clear to us exactly what that was. He sat in the hallway with us and had an agonizing conversation with us about having to intubate her. Earlier that morning we had a parade of nurses popping their heads in as they got off shift just to say hi and tell kendall to be strong. It is so hard to explain to you how this is just our family here.  I am strong here when i need to be only because the burden of Kendall’s care no longer rests squarely on my shoulders. I have so many amazing smart people who come alongside me and help lift that burden and they do it so very well….
there is not enough good things I can say about them all. Every single one.
they know when to come make you laugh and they know when to put their arm around you and ask if you’re doing as ok as you’re trying to act like you’re doing.

this is disjointed and probably makes very little sense. I am tired. I am emotional.
But i am thankful.

today has been calm, and that is the best possible scenario. Kendall’s body is still fighting a very good fight. She is initiating breaths over the vent and the vent settings are not very high. These are good signs. But she is still battling fevers between 102 and 104 degrees, and with every spike her body destabilizes a little bit. Because of her amazing nurse today we have been able to get back on top of these momentary losses, but she is still fighting a very tough battle.
tonight we hope she makes more baby steps in the right direction. we pray that God continues to hold her through this journey.

i have so much more i want to say but i’m kind of out of words right now.

t.