7day Marathon

One week ago today I made a last minute call to stay home from work to care for two sniffling rasping babies with tired pink puffy eyes.  I worried throughout the day that a.) I didn't have the time to be taking off from work - again and b.) are they really getting sick again?  I reminded myself that I am a mother first and foremost and that when Nick and I made the decision to "start trying" I was throwing all other responsibilities and conveniences of pre-parenthood into second place.  So I organized the clean burp cloths, the clean bottles, the nasal aspirators, and the nebulizer medications and began my little diary of ounces consumed, nap, tylenol, and breathing treatments.  Thus began the race in which I contended to stay ahead of my sick children.

Saturday I was in the lead.  I had it all under control, slow and steady.

Then Sunday came and we were faced with moving uphill.  I guessed she was dehydrated and after googling infant dehydration Nick and I leaped from the couch and within 10 minutes we were sprinting to Baptist East.  Blood tests, chest x-rays, and before we new it an ambulance on route to South.  This was the part in the race where team members split up - team leader took the weakest link to get help and I took the detour back home with other team member to sit, rest, wait.

Monday and Tuesday are kind of blurry right now.  This was the part where you are half way through and people on the sidelines are handing you water bottles and gel packs for immediate relief and for future preparation.  This is the part where community stepped up and by grace gave you the strength you didn't know you have.  Dinners, visits, phone calls, FB messages, donations all at once broke down my wall of doubt and reminded me that I was not in this race alone - not ever for one second. "Don't give up now Don't give up now Eye on the prize."

Wednesday.  It could go either way.  Will we stay here in middle place?  Will we fall behind and never make it? Or, oh my gosh. There is the finish line; it's within reach I can see it!  

Now it is Friday and I know I have broken through the ribbon of victory.  It's cool down mode.  Everyone is home.  Everyone feels good.  Everyone else is patting you on the back and telling you "good job."  It's not time to start planning the next race.  It is time to rest and rehabilitate and reflect on how good it feels to know that not only did you compete and keep your head up out of water but you came in first place.