This post is coming to you from a quiet, cozy corner of Norah's hospital room at SDCH. She's had intermittent viral symptoms over the last week or so. Today her heart rate was up, and she had a fever in the neighborhood of 102F. Right as we (Jeff, Harper, and I) were leaving, she started bawling, then she threw up.
Without a word, I held up my keys to trade with Jeff. We are all too familiar with this routine of division. He took Harper home so I could stay here with Norah. She's sleeping soundly in my arms now, but felt so crummy that she was shaking earlier.
Here in this moment, it's hard not to dwell on wishing I were rocking her in her bedroom at home. How I'd love to snuggle her all night, and be right by her side anytime she needs something. But soon I will have to slip her back into the hospital crib. I will have to rearrange her tubes and wires. I will gently kiss her cheek as to not wake her. I will have to whisper goodbye in her ear, tell her I love her, and that I will be back tomorrow. I can hardly stand to wait for the day that she comes home. Someday... At least I can say that much.