Hospital-ity

We made it through another couple of days in the hospital and hopefully should be headed home tomorrow. All is going well, and luckily the most traumatic part of today was having to listen to Eva cry while her blood was drawn. They are going to test her blood to determine if her body is handling the new medicine appropriately. The doctors will look at the results in the morning and if all is well we should be discharged soon thereafter. (It should be noted that I hid in the corner while Adam comforted her during the blood draw. I can handle her turning pale and blue and listless from heart issues, but I can't see a needle.)

Eva has loved being in the hospital. She thinks this is some sort of luxury cruise. She coos and smiles for all the nurses, doctors, volunteers, interns, residents, students, etc who are parading through her room at all hours of the day. She has had a few momentous moments too. She rolled over for the first time (stomach to back) and has finally learned how to put her pacifier in her mouth. But her favorite new trick of the day was learning to shake the wires attached to her chest like a tambourine. All afternoon she was banging them against her hip while kicking her legs, sounding off all sorts of beeps and bells and making the nurses run in. Then she would give them a gurgly smile and yell, "gotcha." (or at least that is my interpretation of her babble.)

The hospital has been harder on me. It breaks my heart being here and seeing all the kids that are hurting and all the people that love these kids. Passing through the lobby today I overheard a group of people praying and I caught one line, "Lord, let her have the opportunity to grow up." The opportunity to grow up is something that should just be taken for granted. I get overwhelmed by the pain I see here and then I get equally overwhelmed by the goodness in this place. There are so many people here that give so much. There is a volunteer that works the front desk that hand appliques little dolls for all the kids as they check out. There are friends and family constantly filling the lobby bringing food, hugs, and prayers.

We have been lucky to receive so much of this goodness. I have been so encouraged and blessed by the emails, text messages, food drop offs, and well wishes of so many friends and family. Thank you all. I feel so lucky to be so well cared for and for my daughter to be so loved. I am not sure I could have made it through this last month without all of you. I have felt so fragile and anxious so much of the time, but I truly feel like the love from all of you has made God tangible to me. I am not sure why God allows hardships to happen. Why earthquakes can destroy and children can be sick. But I am grateful that in those hardships He allows us to see the best and most brilliant side of humanity in the way we generously love and care for each other.