This week has been a blur. I'm actually pretty happy it's a blur, because I think if I remembered every moment with clarity I would still have tears; I'd still be crying. I don't want to write too many details about Elliot's hospitalization because it's a perfect example of something I don't want to be forever recorded in cyber space. It would give his sickness too much power. However, I do want to share a little because, as I've said in the past, I want the mother who feels alone to read this and know they are not alone. I have felt so alone at times, and I've made it my mission to shed light on how connected we all are. Distance of many miles are arbitrary: We are connected by our words.
Also, I'm writing this for those who have treated Elliot being hospitalized as minor. I want to shed light on the pain, not to glorify it, but rather that people would understand a little more and maybe choose their words more carefully. Not just for me, but for others they may encounter. A sick child, no matter how serious the illness, is never something to take lightly. It weighs heavy on a mother's heart.
When a child has to be hospitalized there is always the unknown. It is not done without careful consideration. Most children who walk through the ER doors walk out soon after. However. Elliot did not respond to his treatments. 8 hours later, his oxygen levels were still low and his wheezing had gotten worse. I saw my Elliot James confused, unsure and lethargic. I hope to never see him that way again. They transferred us to the children's ward and began asking the questions I had answered all day. I totally get why they ask- I'm not complaining. However, when you have had little sleep and your exhausted child is fighting every treatment and they are too young to understand, well- you hope the questions will end soon. We have no family close by and Asher was not allowed to stay overnight. So, that meant either Jimmy or I would have to drive back to Santa Cruz. This was an hour drive and took us through the mountains. I am not good at night driving and even more so when I am exhausted, so it only made sense that Jimmy would make the drive. However, this was the first time I would be separated from Asher at night. It was interesting, to say the least! But that's another story.
That night was the worst night of my life. Steroids every two hours can cause moods changes, obviously. And Elliot had not slept much in the past two days. So, needless to say- my boy was not himself. The most difficult part was the nurses frustration. They were not mean, but Elliot is incredibly strong and it takes a few people to hold him down. Just the fact that he need to be held down broke my heart into a million pieces! We swaddled him, but the constant entrance of nurses and doctors only yielded a few hours (if that) of sleep. I don't want to remember that night ever again. I don't want to think of it. It hurts my heart too much. I think some things are better forgotten, right?
Elliot came home on saturday. He is getting better and so are Jimmy and I. I am fully convinced that child emergencies cause PTSD in parents. Please, please, please- if you have a friend who's son is hospitalized for something, for anything- realize that it's breaking their hearts! Realize that it's frightening, even for something as "common" as asthma. Because low oxygen is never a light issue. With that being said, I am so incredible thankful for all my family and friends who realized how difficult this was. All the people who offered help and understood. I love you all! And I cannot forget my instagram mama friends- I was floored by the amount of you who responded with prayers, well wishes and love. You all are precious and appreciated as well! <3