Awful. Awful. Awful. Horrible. Terrible. Awful. Bad. Horrendous.
I’d like to hit something with a stick.
That’s about as much insight as you may get from this post. My daughter has RSV.
I’ve we’ve been awake since 2:30 a.m. She is uncomfortable, miserable and inconsolable. All of the things that mommys hate to use to describe our little ones. Seeing them in discomfort is the worst part about being a mother.
You can’t reason with it. It’s in your nature to want to pulverize whatever you have to so that your little one is safe, healthy and happy. That’s namely why I’m frustrated. I can’t fix it. I can’t take away the fever or runny nose. I can’t calm her chest so that she will stop coughing. I can’t even get her to sleep for more than 20 minutes at a time.
And I’m ready to loose my mind.
I’m trying to trust in the mighty hands of the Father. Who is our healer. Comforter. Our restorer. Key word is trying.
Praying for peace which passes all understanding in my home tonight. On my neighbor’s home and over her little one Rambo.