It has been a year or more since Jacob and I sat in a hospital room battling our war. There are days I forget how big this war is. Then there are days when it hits like a ton of bricks.
New people in our lives have no clue the battle we face daily. Sometimes I get so angry at myself because I make it too easy so no one sees what it takes.
It took one person to shake me into an angry rage and decide I needed to be a voice for those who are in the middle of the hard battle.
One let me start by saying this has nothing to do with politics it's is our reality and the reality of so many.
This virus might just feel like a cold to you, but for me it takes me back to 2016 when an unknown virus nearly took my sons life. I will never forget sitting on the cold hospital bathroom floor, shower running, music playing so he couldn't hear me begging Jesus to heal my son. "Take me Lord. Take me let him stay but take me."
The truth of it all is many mommas with CF cry this same prayer every time we pack our bags for the 14 day stay. You see we never go to the hospital in hopes to discharge the next day. When it's time to battle we move in for 14 days. 14 days of torture. Watching your child battle a war you would never wish on them is the most gut wrenching heart tugging thing you will ever see.
It's a feeling you don't want to ever feel and a club we never asked to join. Each time I have to usher a new mom in a piece of my heart breaks a little further.
Your child can't leave the room and neither can you. They are poked every morning and attached to a pole 24/7. They still have to do their school work even though they don't feel like it. The hospital teacher comes in and they cry for just a few more minutes of rest. You are proud of those C's.
Physical therapy makes them walk in a mask, gown and gloves. They aren't able to discharge until their oxygen level doesn't drop on the walk. I dare you to garb up and see what your oxygen level does.
That room begins to feel like a prison. No playstation or movies can remove the feeling of entrapment.
For many of us however it is in those moments when we are closest to God. We see him work miracles when doctors say there is no way. We gain strength from our child who is the one going through hell but still smiles and gives us a hug.
When the doctors say to not get your hopes up but your scream back I know my GOD! Then he flies in and raises numbers no one thought could be raised. Those are the moments when you know God exists.
When you see one of us out ask before you hug us, put your mask on, and remember you have never felt the battle we face daily.
We don't ask for sympathy in fact many of us only tell our stories to build up other moms and to seek our own therapy.
Thank you Ellie for being in my war room and knowing the struggle. All our prayers are in your room today, filling you with a peace only He can provide.
May you feel the surge from all of us standing with you and believing in full healing over your buddy.