Hospitals

I saw this picture on a page for a husband who had a brain tumor and loved it. Absolutely loved it.

As I lay in the bed with Maddox sleeping across my chest, I realize how odd it is to feel at home in this hospital. I do not have a terminally ill child but I do have a special needs child. Sometimes that can hit you like a ton of bricks and sometimes it can bring the weirdest peace. Acceptance is a funny thing. Often I feel like this is the hardest thing to portray to "outsiders". (Anyone living outside the walls of my home) but acceptance really is the only way to get through.

I hate pneumonia. I hate being admitted. But there's no where I'd rather be. This is the hospital he began in and this is the hospital we thought we'd visit often during this first year. But this is the first time and he's almost nine months old. 

Today my heart is grateful for little things:

- this kid is coughing up green junk like a champ!

- the cool little cup they use for cpt rather than a hand

- an amazing nose sucker

- mommas who step in and step up to care for my Hudson when I can't

- a preacher who checks on is daily

- good friends

- an abundance of nurses who come by to see "their Maddox"

- rest... Even if it is in a hospital room