Fear.

Fear. That’s the emotion of the day.

As I sit here at the hospital with my three week old son, I’m afraid. His little body is weak. He’s got such a high fever and had his first chest xray. He had his first, and hopefully his last, lumbar puncture.

My heart can’t take it. The little cry, the lethargy, seeing the IV in his forehead, and the fact that its been so hard to get him to eat… The fact that I’m here alone doesn’t help either.

I’ve been sitting here, watching over this little warrior who has me completely wrapped around his finger, and praying the doctors figure out what is wrong. I’m trying to make sense of it all. What does elevated liver enzymes mean? Will the severity of his dehydration affect him in the long run? Why did this happen to him?

I’m blaming myself. I shouldn’t have gone to work yesterday. I should have taken him to the doctor sooner. I should have noticed that he hadn’t eaten. I definitely should have noticed a fever. I’ve cried so many times. I’ve cuddled him to me begging him to forgive me for not seeing it sooner.

I wait.

The doctor still hasn’t been by with results. I’m afraid. What if the longer wait means worse results? What if this isn’t a cold or a virus? What if his tiny little body can’t handle it? I’m a mess. I’m scared. I’m hurting. I’m scatterbrained.

I’ll be taking a break from my blog until I get to take my little boy home. I hope you understand.

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