I am feeling very emotional today. Defeated.
I thought it would be therapeutic for me to get it all out. Because I know that feelings like this must be acknowledged... in order to move on.
Ben hates being woken up to take his medication through the night. He's always been a sound sleeper, the one that really really loves his sleep. So interruptions at the hospital - much less at home - really irritate him. "Daaaaad, you keep waking me up," he complains. "And that makes me really tired during the day, too." He's really annoyed by it. Every moms knows that being woken up at any point through the night equals a more restless sleep. The same goes for Ben. But the idea of NOT waking him up to give his steroids is too frightening. So we continue to wake him up. Every five and a half hours. To be sure the dreaded headaches don't return.
This afternoon, the boys had their kindergarten testing. Except Benjamin was too tired and just wanted to stay home and rest. It was completely fine; the elementary school was sort of expecting it and had promised to make other arrangements if this week wasn't convenient for us. So I just took Jack instead. It felt so emotional, walking into my alma-mater holding only one boy's hand. When I had always thought about this experience holding two. I just wasn't ready for it. I felt so sick I wanted to throw up.
And then tonight after bath time, Andy took the boys downstairs for Movie Night - a once-a-week treat that has since become a nightly ritual - and I stayed upstairs to pick up the wet towels. I heard Andy calling for Ben to join them, but then I heard my little one say, "I'll be there in a minute. I just have to wait for Mom." I looked up from the floor and saw Ben, walking toward me from the top of the stairs. I almost lost it.
Ben always waits for me.
Ever since they were little, Jack has always seemed to gravitate toward Andy. Ben, me. If we are walking into a restaurant, Andy would try and hustle inside with the boys while I get Megan and the diaper bag. Jack was always happy to walk in with Daddy, but I'd always expect Ben to come running back to hold my hand.
Tonight I had an overwhelming flood of emotion. Oh, how I would miss my Benjamin!
God could perform a miracle. He is able.
Oh, how I wish He would.
I think I'll be crying myself to sleep again tonight, like I did so many nights after we first learned of Ben's diagnosis. Praying. Hoping. Wishing. Begging God for that miracle.
"Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning." Psalm 30:5