To the Momma of a Sick Baby

I know who you are now, I see you.

I see the exhaustion behind the smile you wear, I wear it, too.

I see the countless hours you spend just sitting with your child because you can’t bear the thought of them being alone.

I know the non-medical degree you have earned yourself from researching the diagnoses, medications, complications, risks and outcomes.

I hear your silent cries at your child’s bedside when you think nobody can hear you because you don’t want to be a burden.

I hear your prayers turn to anger then back to thankfulness in an instant because that’s just how quickly things change.

I know the momma guilt you carry because you have other children; they need you, but she needs you more. I know.

I know you never expected this life, you never thought you were strong enough.

You never thought it could happen to you, this is somebody else’s story you are living.

I known how alone you feel because truly, nobody can understand unless they have gone through this experience and it’s something you would never wish on anyone. You don’t want people to understand, but you do because you feel alone.

I know you long for the day when this will all be a distant memory, but you don’t really know if or when that day will come.

I know the uncertainty breaks you.

I know who you are, I know you can do this.

You are not alone.

I know.