The not so happy birthday part 2

During the last few minutes of Collin's party Papa Don sent a text to both Ryan and I that said Madelyn seemed to be getting worse and that she was just crying for her momma.  

We were out the door within minutes and on our way home.

She was, in fact, seemingly worse and was just crying and complaining of a sore belly.  She wouldn't sit up, didn't want to be held, didn't want to open gifts, nothing.  

Nothing would console her sad heart or her sick tummy.

We decided we better take her to the ER for fear she may be dehydrated from the day before.

We scooped her up and left in a hurry without even really saying goodbye to Collin who was going to stay at home with Papa Don, who by the way, was so very helpful throughout the whole stinking ordeal beginning on Friday when he was here with her cleaning up vomit.  

We get to the ER and they wanted to start an IV for dehydration.

Sad.

Necessary, but so sad.

We were pretty sure this would do the trick.

They ran every test known to man, well at least it felt that way anyway.

Poor girl was poked in every place possible from her head to her feet.

 Look how sweet this girl's daddy is.

She rested very little, but when she did we were so thankful.

 Her daddy, her hero.

After 6 hours and three IV bags the Dr decided she needed to be sent to Children's hospital.

Not what we wanted to hear.

Unfortunately she was still dehydrated, which was determined by a urine sample taken by catheter, horrible experience.

Dr also felt he was unable to rule out appendicitis.

Oh mercy.

I wanted to sit with my head between my knees and just sob.

Watching your child in misery is like a slow death.

Nothing short of awful.

Can you imagine Mary watching Jesus on the cross?

No, unimaginable.

I'm sure every ounce of her wanted to go lift him off herself.

Quite sure she would have hung there in his place had it been up to her.

For 6 hours I just begged God to heal her.

Take the pain.

Give it to me.

I felt loved by all who were lifting me in prayer and yet I felt so isolated and lonely in this place of despair.  

Where are you God?

I had been texting mom the entire time we were there.

Part of it was because I knew they wanted to know what was going on but a bigger part of it was for me.

I felt better just knowing that her and dad knew.

I can't explain it but I just needed them to know.

I let her know we were being sent to Children's and she asked if I wanted them to come.

Every bit of me wanted to say YES.

But I've been through this before and I knew it was going to be a long night so I told her we would be fine and promised to keep her posted.

Our ambulance was ready and they got our girl situated.

We took pictures and made a big deal of her just so she wouldn't be scared.  She even smiled a bit when we told her we would send the pictures to Collin.  

Taking pictures at a time like this seems ridiculous but it seemed to help her feel this ride was "exciting" rather than scary.

We have taken this ride with Collin before so I knew the drill.

One parent allowed along in the front.

I told Ryan I'd go and he could run home and grab some clothes and things we may need.

I hate those rides.

No one wants to be in an ambulance.

But no one ever wants to be in the front while their child rides strapped in the back.

We got to Children's and it was PACKED.

As in wall to wall sick children.

I was given the unfortunate news that we would be waiting for our turn.  

Um excuse me?

We have already waited 6 hours and were just transferred by ambulance.

"Sorry ma'am take a seat and we will call you when it's your turn."

I literally looked at the young EMT and told him I was going to have an anxiety attack.

I'm sure he wondered if it was a good idea for him to leave this poor sick child alone with her crazy mother.

It was in that moment that I realized "you're all she has, suck it up momma, you're all she has".

So I swooped up my sick girl and gently placed her in the enormous wheelchair they brought us.

Of course she cried.

Which made me want to cry.

"you're all she has"...

I wheeled her to farthest part of the waiting room and tried to drown out the sound of vomit and horrendous coughing while putting all of my focus on this sweet girl.

I frantically tried to text/call Ryan.

The ER is in the basement of the hospital.

Dead zone.

You HAVE to be kidding.

I was able to get ahold of him long enough to let him know I was about to freak out and I'm sure that in that moment he wondered why in the world he didn't ride in the ambulance.

I then did what any daughter would do after she called her husband.

I called my mom.

And it connected.

"Mom it's awful here, we are in the waiting room full of sick kids and I'm alone."

This next sentence makes me cry even now...

"We are already on our way there, we will be there soon"

I told her they didn't have to come.

But she knew.

And without having to ask they just jumped in the car at 11 at night and were on their way.

I can't tell you what relief that brought.

I was alone for about an hour before they arrived.  They rounded the corner and for the first time I was able to cry.  I just buried my head in her shoulder and I cried.  

And she knew.

She didn't fall apart.

Sometimes momma's just have to hold it together for their girls.

I couldn't make eye contact with my dad.

I may have needed my own ambulance ride if I let it go with him. 

Pull it together sister.

And I did.

Ryan arrived and it wasn't long before her name was called.

One would never think that relief would come by hearing their child's name called by an ER nurse.  But when your baby is sick there is the sweetest relief when it's finally her turn...