You know what can make you feel like a really bad mom? Being woken up at 2am not by a hungry baby but by a portable chest x-ray coming to into your baby's room because he is struggling to breath, but you didn't even know he was struggling. When you fell asleep an hour earlier he was doing fine, a little uncomfortable, but still breathing fine on his own. You had no idea he was having trouble breathing because he doesn't make any noise when he cries. Having had a breathing tube for 36 hours has made him hoarse and you didn't hear him crying, struggling for air, his little heart working too hard.
Will has been intubated again. At 3am his room was a flurry of doctors, respiratory therapists and nurses all working quickly to sedate him and put a breathing tube back in. Dr F, the charge doctor tonight, said that the problem wasn't Will's lungs, but that his heart wasn't able to keep up with all the work of breathing. I wanted to cry. But I didn't.
I haven't cried yet. I've wanted to, but keep thinking what's the use, crying doesn't accomplish anything. Now, I want to cry. I want a good hard cry where I can just blubber on about everything I'm feeling and about how scared I am for Will. I want to sob uncontrollably and then feel a little better. But still I think what good would it do? Would having a complete and total mental breakdown really be of benefit to anyone?
I feel like I need to be strong for Will, for Julianna, even for Joe, but all I really want to do is cry.