counting

I don't know if "it" actually takes a village.

But I sure seem to. I take a village.

And here I am just about as far from family as I have been since 2007, and villagers have come out of the woodwork the last few days, sending me into wide range of overwhelming gratitude and peace and then overwhelming emotion and sadness.

A lot of that is probably just lack of sleep.

Matt left Friday morning, and throughout the day, Emma, who was finally better, started sounding snuffly again. The kids had friends for a sleepover, we had a busy, fun at home day Saturday (ain't nowhere you can go with 9kids and a mini-van, and Emma kept sounding worse.  But I was busy...one meal after another, laundry, cleaning up, so when it was time for Emma's bedtime bath Saturday night, I was genuinely appalled when I took off her jammies and saw her chest and stomach wheezing and pulling and contracting.  She was breathing 60+ times a minute, gaspy and wheezy, but the fighting contracting of her chest muscles was not normal.

I felt instantly overwhelmed...Matt was gone, I couldn't have someone else look at her...what if I needed to take her to the ER? I couldn't leave 9 kids in the middle of the night. I had more kids than I could take somewhere. It was already 9:30 at night. Maybe she was fine?

Just then, Hannah texted out of the blue, late for her.  I'd been on her mind all day, she'd been praying...was I ok?

Thirty minutes later she came over in her pajamas and was settled into the guest room upstairs, just in case.  All night I held Emma upright on the couch and listened to her battle and pant. By morning light, I texted our old neighbor pediatrician friend.  I should have taken her already.  I put breakfast in the oven, grabbed the diaper bag and went to the ER.  In less than 5 minutes they had her on oxygen and were calling for X-rays and admittance.  She was hysterical, tearing at her face and inconsollable.

It hadn't occurred to me we'd be staying, and suddenly were and babies crying all around us, I had no water, no socks, a dead phone, six kids at home, scary baby.

And Beth walked in with coffee and a phone charger.

I didn't think they let people come sit in the ER. 

But it sure was what I needed.

Morgan got all the kids, packed their bags, took them to her church.  Sent pictures, loved them all day, made beds for them all by night.  Hannah brought me lunch, Beth sat with me all day, moved us into a room. 

The night was so, so long. Alone. Hard chair. Miserable baby. Every two hours they would come in, ask me to hold her down, and force tubes down her swollen nostrils, sucking all the gunk directly out of her lungs while also drowning her in saline.  She screamed and wailed like I've never seen and I am a five time mama, crying with her every time. Sun came up, lessened her oxygen, and nurses coming in as often as the texts of friends asking and offering and praying. 

Morgan took my kids to school, 7 am, brought me coffee and sweats and underwear and hurried home to my other four and her four. Beth brought towels and soap and coffee (you're noting my coffee love language theme by now) and sat with me as we watched her off oxygen, rooted for her saturation levels, held her down through suctioning.  Julie picked up one school kiddo.  Hannah took care of pets. Morgan drove four home.  Alex picked up one from Cross-Country, Abby took one to the meet.  We were discharged, headed home right at dinner, and Betsy made it, brought it. Ate good, good food next to the flowers Dana had dropped off, with my phone still dinging, Elijah, Patty, Laurie, Courtney, what could they do? Lisa as there for me as someone 17 hours away could be. Friends quickly call days to bring food. 

Matt's been driving, 17 hours two days after driving 17 hours, to get home and tonight as I wait, bigs in beds and baby one again panting and raspy...making it hard to sleep, upright on the couch counting gasps...I am counting too the ways He has been not only faithful, but GOOD, through so, so many in what sometimes feels like one overwhelming trial after another. 

I'm ready to NOT take a village. I am tired of taking a village.  

But until then.  This is the day that the Lord has made, and these are His people. And I'll take 'em with a weary, emotional, full heart.  Thank you for praying for our dear girl.