Do you know what? Monday morning did not go as I planned. In fact, this whole year is not going as I originally planned. We’re on day 13, imagine that.

Yesterday was a beautiful day, full of walks outside, Jonathan getting the car’s oil changed, cooking lots of good food for the week’s lunches, reading, some Curious George, and some house cleaning. It was a typical weekend…until bedtime. Truett had been coughing a little, but nothing big. I guess I didn’t pay much attention, because other moms were telling me that their little ones were coughing and they weren’t too worried about it, that they’d get over it quick.

Well, apparently I should not compare my circumstances to other moms, because Truett went downhill fast.  Wow. But seriously. By 9pm I was sitting in the bathroom on the floor with the hot shower running trying to create a steam room. At 10pm we tried to lay down with him in our bed (a no no, I know I know, and I didn’t care) and he didn’t want that. Jonathan took him and held him most of the night, or he slept in my bed. I’m actually not sure, because I fell asleep, so some time between night time and morning, Truett slept some, and Jonathan probably didn’t. I woke up to the sound of HORRENDOUS hacking coughing paired with Jonathan saying, “Truett, can you not breathe? Do you want to take a hot bath.”

I knew something was bad, and I wondered what I had missed during the night. I went in toward the end of Truett’s bath to see his breaths literally sucking in SO HARD that his chest cavity could not possible pull in any further. It was frightening, to say the least. 7:10a.m. If I could wait 50 more minutes we could take him to our doctor. Isn’t that always how it goes? Doctors are closed when you need them most? Or, at least that’s all I remember lately.

I gave in at 7:20a.m. and called the on-call nurse, who said he likely had Croup and we shouldn’t take him to the emergency room because it was a cesspool of germs. Touché. However, if she had seen him breathe she may have changed her mind. Regardless, the time ticked by to 8:45 somehow, and we saw our doctor. He listened to everything, checked everything, and then calmly said, “I need you to check him into the hospital. I haven’t put a kid in the hospital for Croup in 4 years, but he definitely needs it. He can’t get enough oxygen in his lungs, and I’m afraid he won’t be ok if you take him home and he fights it on his own. The least we should do is have him near doctors, in case he doesn’t get better, and needs immediate help.” Not so comforting, but nonetheless true. It was a long eight minute ride to the hospital.

And you know hospitals, right? You have to get admitted, wait 2 hours, and then see a doctor who makes you wait. Well, not this kid! The doctor gave us a slip of paper and said, “Go to the 10th floor. He’s directly admitted.” And let me tell you, it’s glorious! Jonathan dropped me off with Truett, I went to the 10th floor, to the Children’s ICU, and said, “Hi. I’m here with Tr…. “Weeeeehhhhhaaaaw.” The doors opened and they said, here’s your room. Four different nurses came in, gave him a breathing treatment, took his temp, get him all labeled up and taken care of in what, 10 minutes from stepping foot in the door? Now that is service. I was completely impressed.

Since then, Tru has had five breathing treatments, some strong steroids that they assured me should last for 3 days, and lots of snuggles with an attached child. We may be fighting some clingy issues for a while, but you only live once, huh. We worked so hard on that, but oh well. Sometimes you just don’t want your child to cry, because if he cries he may not get enough oxygen and turn blue. So sure, I’ll hold him when he wants me, and I’ll fall asleep with him too, and I’ll hold him. I’ll read him books and give him chocolate milk and read him stories. And then, when it’s an hour past his bedtime and he wants graham crackers, I’ll let him have them. Sure, I’ll do that too.

Jonathan has been a champ and husband of the year. He takes care of everything from parking to humor to entertainment and everything in between. We’re hoping to go home tomorrow, but it depends how the night goes. I’m sure we’ll be on the up and up…I think.  God has taken such good care of our son. From the moment I was wondering how this was going to turn out, I started in my mind preparing my thoughts:

Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in him.

Psalm 62:5

Lord, he’s yours. From the very beginning of his life, he was yours. From his first breath and the first thought of him, he was still yours, and you take care of your own. I know that you are with him, and hold his right hand. You are right beside him and you love him more than I do. You love him more. More than I can imagine, actually, because I love him that much. So much that I can’t imagine how you love him more than me, but I know in my heart that you do.

You have taken care of his every breath today. His every breath. Literally. You know what is happening to him tomorrow, and you’re here with him now all the same. Your angels have saved him many times in his life already, and you’re here with him today again, and with us, teaching us to trust you and to love Truett more.

Beware that you don’t look down on any of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels are always in the presence of my heavenly Father.

Matthew 18:10

We love you for that, Lord. We love you with all of our hearts, and we thank you for the hard times, because they make us nothing but thankful for the good ones. Lord, all day today, I couldn’t have felt closer to you. That, in itself, is a gift.