...is exactly what the last 48 hours have been.
When I posted my last post...my white flag of surrender waving...
...I was surrendering to the norm of being a new mommy.
Jason went out of town on Tuesday and I was surrendering my sleep.
I was surrendering to the dirty dishes in the sink...
...to the unmade bed...
...the uncombed hair...
...the house in disarray...
And I was surrendering to the cold that was wiping me out.
I have been living on cold medication and Coke for the last week.
The cold medication to keep my symptoms under control, and the Coke to keep me awake.
And flowing in and out of all of it was the thought deep in my heart that something was wrong with my baby girl.
"She's sick," I would tell anyone who would listen.
"She doesn't feel feel well," I would say out loud over and over again.
And yet I had nothing to prove it.
No high temperature.
No cold symptoms.
Until last night.
Emily cried the entire night.
And Emily doesn't cry.
From about midnight on, my sweet baby girl cried until she was exhausted.
And then when she couldn't cry, she whimpered until she had saved enough energy to cry again.
We rocked in the rocking chair.
We snuggled in bed.
I sang quiet songs.
I prayed...over and over again.
And my little miss just cried.
At 4:00 this morning I joined her, and we both cried until we were out of energy.
One minute after I knew her pediatrician's office was open, I called.
"What are her symptoms?" I was asked.
"She is crying and it's getting harder for her to breathe."
They wanted to see her in two hours.
I called my angel of a sister who came and held Emily as she cried, and I jumped in the shower.
My sister and I spent an hour in the pediatrician's office.
From there we were sent to the hospital.
And from the hospital my baby and I were taken to her children's hospital by ambulance.
Thankfully Jason's flight home was today, and he met us at the hospital.
Miss Elimy has an infection in her incision.
A serious one.
One that has most likely been growing ever since her surgery, and just in the last week presented itself so that I could see it.
The infection is deep, going all the way to her still healing sternum.
After being at Primary Children's for just two hours Emily was taken into surgery, where they opened her up and cleaned out the infection.
Her incision was left open, and tomorrow and the day after that, and probably the day after that, they will clean her incision and give her continuous antibiotics.
We left our baby girl in the hospital ... again.
When we got home I climbed into a hot bath, and sat in the dark and cried.
Oh how I cried.
My mom told me tonight that she was proud of me.
When I asked her why she said, "Because you knew...you followed your heart and you saved your little girl's life."
More tired than I've ever been.
And I'm filled with emotions I may never be able to express.
But know this...
I've seen a miracle today, and when I can put two coherent sentences together I will tell you about it.
At the bottom of all of the pain is my absolute knowledge that God lives, and that God loves my baby girl.
Once again Emily has to fight...it's a good thing she knows how.