He's MINE.

Sweet Baby Q got sick with RSV last week.  RSV is a cold that is dangerous for little ones.  We tried to treat him at home with breathing treatments and a humidifier.  Our efforts just weren't cutting it.  My mommy insticts said that he needed to go back to the Dr. on Friday.  I was tired of seeing my baby struggle for each breath.  My insticts were right and Q was quickly admitted to the hospital.  He was suctioned (babies don't know how to blow their nose) and given breathing treatments every four hours.  He was also put on oxygen and had an oxygen saturation monitor on his foot the whole time we were there.  The staff was fantastic and we were grateful for their care of Q.  It is scary when your baby is sick and we felt that they did a good job of answering our questions.  They were compassionate with our little man.  In fact, I heard him called, "pooh" and "peanut" and "sweet baby" pretty often.  I think he won over their hearts.  He can't help himself.  He is so darn precious!

Praise God our stay was short.  We were able to come home after 24 hours.  The Dr. felt we could manage his condition from home.  There truly is "no place like home."

 

This experience with Q was interesting to say the least.  I was asked, "How are you related to this little guy?" more than once when we were going through the intake process.  This question took me by surprise.  I am well aware that Q and I do not share the same color of skin or hair or eyes but HE IS MINE.  He is just as much mine as his two big brothers who grew in my tummy or the little one I only got to grow for 8 weeks but will some day meet in heaven.  God does something amazing when he pairs together a momma who needs a baby and a baby who needs a momma.  He grows something special in both their hearts.  I can't explain it.  You would have to experience it. 

So "How am I related to this little one?"  I am his mommy.  I am the one who was sick with worry over every cough.  I am the one who never left his side at the hospital.  I am the one who held him down so he could be suctioned even though it made me want to cry as loud as he was.  I am the one who moved machines around so I could stretch his cords and tubes all the way to my bed in order to hold him in my arms all night.  I am the one who whispered prayers in his ears and told him it was all going to be alright.  I am the one who was chosen...by God and by his birth mother to be his mommy.

Yes, I am Q's mommy.  His passionately-protective, sleep-deprived, crazy-haired and insanly happy Mommy.  I love you Q and I am so proud to be your mom.