My son, my precious, energetic baby...has a brain tumor.
I still have to exhale when I say it, type it, think it...
I can't go into the details right now. I just have to get my thoughts out because my journal is a thousand miles away.
I'm staring at his precious little hand, invaded by an IV. Steroids being pumped into his body to keep the swelling down. Blood pressure cuff, oxygen monitor, wires attached to his tummy...I know this road too well after the NICU. And here we are in the PICU. I thought we'd done our time.
I can't keep scrolling, seeing all these people just going about their daily lives with their healthy babies when mine just turnd upside down. The worst case scenario happened.
But...
God is not done.
I have to believe that.
He will show up. He will heal my son. This isn't over.
MRI tomorrow. Sedation. Intubation. Another tube shoved down his throat that's supposed to be saying my name...
Day 1 of this journey I never wanted to take.
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