It's crazy being back here.
I am across the room from where we were two weeks ago.
I am a more confident Hospital Mummy, pushing buttons on machines, picking Kaylee up without a spotting team, replacing probes and other medical bling and bathing her on my own. I even discuss my observations of Kaylee's condition with medical staff with a reasonable degree of confidence in my own expertise - I am becoming an expert on reading Kaylee. But being here also makes me see her fragility and keenly feel my own lack of ability to make it all better. The nurses here hardly sit down all shift. I look forward to seeing my favourite nurses, lactation consultants and other support staff in the coming week but dread the hustle and bustle of week-day RCH (royal children's hospital). I am made breathless by the amount that is on my to-do list for tomorrow. I miss Launceston. The slower pace and privacy suited me well. I am glad I got to recharge. And when Kaylee starts to go blue, I am glad we are here where we can actually, maybe, do something more to help her.
It has been quite some time since I dreamed of anything but sick babies and hospital procedures. It has a way of getting under your skin, being here.
And if you have stuck with us on this journey thus far you are doing well. Given the choice, I think I would have slipped back into a more comfortable life and shut out this world of baby's blood and wonky hearts. But I have the reward of Kaylee if I stay here, so I stay. You who have walked with me on this journey, who have had the courage and the fortitude to keep walking at my side and encouraging me when you had the choice of walking away, you who have listened to me tell the same story over and over again for a month - thank you. If you had told me six weeks ago I would be on a first name basis with nurses and doctors in three different hospitals in two different states I would have freaked out. But I have found that you are given the grace for each moment. I am sad, tired and apprehensive of what tomorrow will bring in spite of my best resolve. But I am also thankful, blessed and carried. Psalms makes sense in a way it never has before.