Trust

Roger and I make two phone calls everyday up to the hospital. One when we wake up in the morning, and one as we climb into bed every night. We check in with our sweet nurses to see how our daughter has done in the last few hours. These two phone calls keep us going through our days and let us sleep a little more peacefully each night.

This morning I found myself on my knees in our bathroom cleaning our toilet. Figured I might as well make myself useful while I have six weeks off from work. I had called to get the morning update from our cute nurse. Nothing big to report, just the usual breath holding spells while Brooklyn's body is trying to figure out how to do things it shouldn't have to do this early in life. But I felt bad because the Cpap is rubbing her little nose raw - they had to put some foam there to avoid any further skin breakdown.

As I scrubbed the toilet, I started to cry. These little episodes tend to hit me when I least expect it. So there I am, in my underwear, gloved and scrubbing away, and I found myself on my knees in prayer right there on the bathroom floor. I was sobbing to my Father in Heaven. For what? I wasn't sure what I needed most - a hug or to know that our sweet baby wasn't in pain. Is this how he felt when he watched his son suffer on the cross for the sins of the world? Did the image of me on my bathroom floor cross through my Savior's mind as he suffered for my sins?

I think what hit me the most as I picked myself up off the floor and got into the shower was the concept of trust. Do our cute nurses up at Primary's realize the amount of trust parents have in them as they care for the most important thing in their lives? Do the doctors realize their decisions can make or break my day? Our "primary" nurses are the absolute best. We love them. Roger and I would make them sleep at the hospital if we could. I look at them everyday caring for our daughter and wonder if they have any idea the thoughts running through my head. I silently plead with them to be gentle with Brooklyn. To comfort her when I can't. To minimize her suffering. To keep her little body working. Because this sweet little face is all we've got, she is our world....

(They were cleaning her Cpap and let me snap a quick picture yesterday without anything on her face. Her little nose tends to stay "piggy" when she's on the Cpap.)