Monday, March 1, 2010


I can say with absolute certainty that I have only ever been this exhausted once before in my life. Feeling like every ounce of emotion had been squeezed from me, with just a shell remaining. Numb. Almost like I'd never again know what restful sleep was. Having given up on trying to maintain any semblance of normal. Realizing in an instant that what I thought was important belongs in a different order of priority than I placed it.

Last time, though, I brought home a tiny baby boy from the hospital. He was early and sick and fragile, but there was a happy ending. He got stronger. Things got better. This time was different. I helped another home from the hospital. He too was sick and fragile, needing me in a different way than that baby boy all those years ago. But needing me still.

How this story will end, I don't yet know. None of us do. I pray and I hope that there is a happy ending here too. And I will do anything and everything in my power to make it so.

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