Thursday, December 27, 2018

My Boy: The Warrior

December has been one of the more difficult months I have had to endure in my life. Though minor in comparison to some of the hard times some of my family members have endured, this dealt with the first true illness of our son. RSV hit daycare with a vengeance this year, and he was unable to escape the inevitable. What started out as a grumpy, clingy boy who had the sniffles turned into a hair-raising night with breathing trouble. By 1am of December 5th, we were headed into the ER. As a first time parent, I was terrified beyond my own comprehension. Over the next day, things would not improve. When the doctor informed us that if there was not marked improvements by 5:30pm he would be air-lifted to Sioux Falls, my heart sank. Everyone I know and many I do not were praying for our little boy. What little sleep we got was split between a corner bed and chair time with Luca. What seemed like an eternity marked little bits of improvement. We were getting ten minutes a day of our little smiley boy back at a time.


Our little boy is as ornery as his old man, and as stubborn as his mother. Despite the fact that we were in the hospital, we were still out of our element and scared out of our minds. By Friday, our little boy was rounding the bend.








By Friday evening, he was off the oxygen, and they pulled his IV. While out cold in the corner bed I was awoken by Rachel. The doc was in and said we could go home!!!!!! Every fiber of my being wept. It is after Christmas and we are still recuperating from this. 





It's no wonder our parents look old. It's our fault.




Stay Tuned

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