Dear Noah - The Hospital

Dear Noah,

I know you're going to be alright.

In all of my heart of hearts I KNOW it. Yet, I can't help but cry for you. I can't help it because I AM YOUR Mommy and that's what Mommies do.

I'm lying here, beyond exhausted, listening to you breathe and watching - like an OCD hawk - your monitor that flashes all your vitals (which are excellent). I watch them, because, well, again, that's what Mommies do.

Today I've learned so many things about you my son, and so many things about myself.

From you, I've learned that you don't need to be an adult to be brave or be positive. You have been the bravest, happiest soul, while you've been poked, prodded, touched, moved, and badgered by all the adults around you who've demanded you take this medicine, hold still for this throat swab, that thermometer, this blood work, that monitor. You've maintained a smile and a genuine sweetness through most of it that many your age and years older don't possess. Everyone you met today has fallen in love with you, with your joyous spirit even though you're unwell. They all marvel at your talkative nature, at your chatter about cars and Curious George. When dinner arrived tonight you said to the nurse, "I'm hungry." And she laughed and handed you your food and you said, "Kin-ooo" (your sweet version of "thank you").

From myself, I've learned that I am a Mommy. I know that may sound silly, since I've been one for nearly three years now, but maybe more accurately, I've learned what it IS to BE a Mommy. I've learned that you and your brother are my number one priority, that you matter most and that if I EVER lost either of you, I too would completely and utterly lost.

Again, I KNOW that you'll be alright, but the thought sped across my mind that you may not be and that nearly crippled me.

When the doctor came in, with concerned blue eyes, and a kind smile, saying, "Oh buddy, you're having trouble breathing, aren't you?" The magnitude of the situation struck me, nearly knocked me over and I struggled not to fall apart in front of you - since I was supposed to be the strong one FOR you.

And when you caught my tears, even with your own battle to fight, you looked at me with those stunning brown eyes and said, "You okay, Mommy? Mommy's okay? Mommy's happy?"

I smiled through my tears and hugged you and lied, "Yep, Mommy's okay. Mommy's happy."

And here it sit, at some ungodly hour, running on less than 8 hours of sleep in two days, watching, listening, being at the ready - for what, I don't know - but even in this hospital, I feel as if I can take better care of you, watch over you more closely than any of these trained professionals.

Sleep well my beautiful son, get well, knowing that I'm right here, and in some way, I always will be.

Love,

Mama

xoxo