Christmas Gratitudes

You know, I think I had been feeling pretty happy and thankful for all the blessings in my life lately. But the past few weeks, I had also been feeling sad for things that were missing this Christmas - loved ones who have died this past year who I wasn't sending Christmas cards to (there were more this year than ever before in my life), my children's sweet school that closed last year and their Christmas pageant (in its place, a very cute but completely un-Christmas-ed production at their new school), our old church and their magnificent ringing bells... Well, I guess God decided to wake me up and turn up that gratitude a notch, because I landed myself in the hospital this week.

I have battled a UTI/kidney infection on and off since Wyatt's birth. Every time I was put on antibiotics, it got better. Every time I finished the antibiotics, it came back. I have kidney stones (11, if you want to know) that according to my urologist might have helped hang onto the infection. Well, last week the infection came back, and by Sunday I was feeling really, really bad. I made it through Monday thanks to the miracle powers of a LOT of coffee, and dragged myself to the doctor on Tuesday. My lab results didn't look pretty. I was pleading with him to make this go away forever. I felt and looked awful. So, here I am, in room 3057, getting IV antibiotics and fluids. He told me he also wanted me to get some rest - it took some effort not to laugh. He's obviously never spent the night in a hospital. I got 1 hour and 35 minutes of sleep my first 24 hours here. But I also got some medicine that has helped me feel so, so much better!

My first night, when I felt physically horrible and exhausted and couldn't sleep because of all the people coming into my room, my friend who lives in Armenia right now kept me company all night long. We laughed about my awful nurse. We laughed about my awesome patient care tech named Orlando, who danced around my room, "We've got a full house! We're rockin' it on 3 North tonight!" And she listened to me whine and whine and whine.

Another friend volunteered to be my breastmilk courier. Three times a day, she's come by to pick up milk and deliver it home to Wyatt. She also brought me snacks and bought toilet paper for my family so Davis wouldn't have to drag all the kids to the store. They even called me to make sure they got the right brand.

On Facebook, my friends sent me well wishes and prayers and cheered me up with funny posts and sweet private messages. Yesterday afternoon I felt really sad, because I missed my baby. I've never spent the night away from one of my little babies, and it was making me anxious and a little queasy and a LOT sad. At around 2pm, I looked at a picture of him and sobbed for an hour. I literally didn't know how I was going to make it through another 24 hours without holding him. It's the middle of winter, and I'm on a general medicine floor, so there was just no way I was going to drag a new baby up here into the germosphere. But I wanted him sooo badly. Four friends called me and many more sent me texts, and I was lifted up and carried through that sadness, until my lovely day nurse came in and took pity on me. She suggested that Davis bring the kids up in the car, and they would unhook me and let me go downstairs. I literally jumped up, called Davis, and ran downstairs. Nursing my little baby in the car while my other kids jibber-jabbered at me was the best thing EVER! I came back upstairs and my nurse looked at me and said I looked like a new person. I felt like it too!

And at home, my sweet husband has been keeping the four kids and calling to tell me things like "oh I'm actually bored, things are going so well!" And friends are coming by with meals and homemade baked goodies. Friends are offering to help during a time that I know is crazy and busy for everyone. And my sweet Sophia, she slept next to baby Wyatt because she knew he would miss mama and, "Daddy, I know you're really tired, so if he wakes up and you don't hear him, I'll wake you up." She's SIX, my sweet oldest baby, and she always rises to the occasion.

And as I've sat here in room 3057, I have been overcome with the realization that I am so blessed. So, so blessed. To have these beautiful children that I love so much I can't stand to be away from them, to have a husband who can be home taking care of everything without batting an eye, to have THE best friends in the whole world, and to know that after a couple of days, I get to walk out of this hospital cured, and never looking back, and home in time for Christmas.

I have prayed a lot the last couple of days. I've prayed for all the people in this building who aren't getting to go home for Christmas. I've prayed for those who won't walk out of here healed. I've prayed for those who are alone and don't have friends and family to lift them up and carry them through. I've prayed for the old woman in the room next to me, who is here from a nursing home and doesn't know where she is, so she cries and screams in confusion all night long. I've prayed for those who have lost children and don't get to go back and hold them again after a couple of days of separation. Yes, these days before Christmas, my eyes have been opened and I've been reminded powerfully of how blessed I am.

A friend brought me a beautiful collection of Celtic prayers last night. This one is from Celtic Prayers from Iona by Phillip Newell

Watch now O Christ
With those who are weary
Or wandering
Or weeping this night.
Guide them to a house
Of your peace
And lead us to be caring
For their tears.