I Cry Out

We are home. I feel like a little baby bird with a broken wing that doesn't know how to fly. Yet, it's mom shoved her out of the nest. We were very blessed with an extremely courteous and compassionate staff. Almost every person I came in contact with, was extremely empathetic. The new antibiotic seems to have adjusted to my body and for that I am extremely grateful. As far as my weight, they didn't really address the issue. They didn't want to step on U of M's toes and so that leaves me back where I was. I am trying to learn to cope with the anxiety of all of this. Day after day, I walked over to my window and just stared up into the sky trying to imagine Heaven and G-d's throne. I found myself getting lost in just staring at the sky, minutes, maybe hours went by. I shared my thoughts through tears, praise, and panic. He has responded ever so subtlety. We ended up getting into the ER faster than I did when I was taken by ambulance. We ended up getting into a room that wasn't supposed to be available for hours, so much so, they offered an ambulance ride to another hospital, only to have a private room. The staff was amazing. The doctor that saw how bad the antibiotic that pretty much about took me out, was like an angel. I never did see him again. During an ultrasound there was a woman that remember Elijah. On top of that, on the last night we found out that we were allowed to walk around. We were on 7 and Seth suggested walking to Elijah's old room. We expected everything different, but it wasn't. Same pictures were hung, but all the rooms were eerily quite. Seth peeked into the now abandoned dialysis room that we used to frequent. I could see us 7 years ago walking down the halls in a hurry. Now, I am tired and out of breath, but for a different reason. Oddly enough the Children's towers were full, so they had some overflow patients. There sat one of Eli's night nurses Deb. She looked up at us and said, your Elijah's parents. So that was a treat. As we walked slowly through the halls, my mind was flooded with memories. 2 of my children were born, lived, and had died in this hospital. My Bubbe Esther's room that she died in, wasn't to far from mine. It was a somber walk. As each doctor patted me on the shoulder in the "I'm sorry, there isn't more we can do," I'm left stunned. Could half our our small family actually be gone? I am doing my best to hang on. I got to hear why I don't want a feeding tube. I kept explaining that I can't eat, what am I supposed to do? They just said go back to Ann Arbor. Ann Arbor said to wait. I don't know what for. In all of this while I was terribly ill, they never called back to change the medication. If I hadn't felt G-d's spirit telling me to go, I know I would not be writing to you this minute. The anxiety and sadness is overwhelming. I am trying focus and really give G-d the trust that He deserves. I am in His hands. He knows what is best and all I can do, is take one day at a time. In the core of my being, I feel it is not my time to go, but it's when I get caught up in the words of those who I thought could fix anyone. The nurse that discharged me, kindly noted that when her Dad died, she didn't think she'd make it through, but she did. G-d never gives more than we can handle. I am sorry, but, I am not fond of that phrase. It's really painful to hear when feeling so low. I know He is always with me, but eventually He does give us more than we can handle, and that is when He calls us home. I don't know what my future holds. I am praying that I will be able to eat some food and that the botox will really work and hold out. I know that miracle can still happen. His peace is what I long for. I am trying my best to hang on, while not trying to fight so hard. I feel like I am in the ocean, in a raging storm hanging onto a log and looking for Jesus to be walking on the water to grab my hand. I found out today a friend of ours that has been battling neck cancer, that his PET scan was clear!!! I sobbed. I have prayed for this man so often. I have only met him twice, yet I have felt a kindred spirit. I thought, if he could beat that, I have to beat this. Today has been overwhelming, but I am hopeful that things are going to get better. Baby steps, tiny baby steps. I watched the weather turn from spring to winter. It's amazing to see how each little thing of nature is so intricate. When you stop and slow down from the business of life, and see the things that really matter. I appreciate your prayers and support. I long to be back with my peanuts under my wing. I have a great husband, loving and supportive parents on both sides, wonderful friends, and hugely supportive church. But mostly, I have my G-d. He is just, loving, and more loyal than I can barely comprehend. I am to tired to walk, so now I know he is carrying me. He has blessed me beyond all than I truly recognize. Even though things aren't going the way I want them to, He knows what is best. My daughter learned a bible verse at Awana and it pops in my head every now and then. Evening, Morning, and Noon, I cry out. Yes dear Father, I cry out.