being admitted...

It seemed kind of strange to me, admitting her and to the ICU floor since she was only having trouble breathing, the whole time being assured it was her asthma and that she may have only been in minor distress, but I was not the doctor and had promised her I would stay with her tonight and make sure she was alright and not alone, she gave me a reassuring smile, she was scared and tired and was ready for a good night’s sleep.  My folks were reassured we would be fine so they could go home and rest themselves.

I on the other hand was not sure how much sleep I would actually get, but it didn’t seem to matter at that very moment. 

I had a notepad and I began to journal as she rested {see inset}. I’m not sure where the time went, I walked a little and tended to her as she seemed to become somewhat restless as the night went on.
She said she was hungry, I remember them bringing us food, when it came time to eat, she was unable, either not able to hold it down or then not hungry at all. I remember thinking this was strange but not too unusual as she was a little tiny petite thing anyway.
I do know at one point, during the middle of the night, she was ready to tell me her delivery story and at that moment, when it was her and I and the beep of her breathing machine, I let her talk, and talk she did, over and over and over again! The story was one I had learned she had obviously taken great pride in, in her accomplishment to have done something she thought she would not have been able to do, delivery normally as she had from the beginning been told and planned on having a C-section delivery. I sat and listened and learned a lot from my little sister that night, I learned she had always looked up to me and what I had done, whether it be my own deliveries of my two daughters or the way I cared for her as we were growing up. I remember having a sense of humiliation, one I had not admitted nor shared with anyone, my own bit of selfishness for not being as caring or supportive as I should have/could have been in the beginning, as she started this journey, her life changing journey, her becoming a woman, a mother, she was SO PROUD of herself and what she had accomplished and at that moment I figured it out, it hit me and I’m afraid to say it was almost too late, she wanted, in fact, needed my approval.
I listened until she could not speak anymore, she was hoarse and was struggling to form a sentence, and it was obvious she was so tired she could not form another word. I stopped her and at this point was nearly on the bed beside her, holding her and telling her to “shhhhh” as I stroked her hand telling her the entire time how proud I was of her, how brave she was and how I could not wait to meet her son and what a GREAT job she did as I had seen the pictures and would bring them to show her later on in the day! She looked at me and her eyes said it all, I kissed her forehead and told her I loved her, she drifted off to rest.

It was about sun-up and due to be shift change so I took a walk to get some fresh air assuring her I would return after a little while.

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