Today we had our first trip back to the ER since George died. It was unexpected and my heart dropped when the doctor told us we needed to go there. It was for Hugh, not the boys so I was greatful for that. The very thought of returning to the place we lost our little boy just brought so much anxiety to me. There was nothing I could do and I guess it was God's way of making me face it head on...he is really getting me kind of mad when he pulls this stuff! I really could use a break from the chaos that always seems to follow us wherever we go.
Yesterday Hugh and my dad were putting up fence but had to work on a tree stump that was in my parents yard. The tree had fallen over in the recent storm and just made it easer for my parents to finally put up the privacy fence they have wanted for a while. Somewhere between the time we finally went home and the trip to his friends house for a night of relaxation, his eye started to bother him. When he finally got home I looked at it and didn't really like what I saw. I flushed it with solution and saw no particles so I put in an antibiotic drop and told him if it was not somewhat better in the morning he was going to the docs.
We got to the doctors office after hunting for a doc to take the insurance to only be told he needed to go to the ER. He had a corneal abrasion but the doc could not tell if there was any particles in his eye. The office could not find an eye doc in 50 miles that took the insurance and the people from the insurance company were useless. That meant only one thing...a trip to the ER. I think that both of our hearts fell to out stomach when we heard this. It was a new doc so he had no idea what had happened and what he was really asking us to do.
We pulled up to the hospital and that sinking feeling sat in the pit of my stomach. I had to drop Hugh off since there were no parking spots and then valet park the van. I walked around and came to those doors that I walked in the last time I held my little boy and walking in the door just took everything I had in me to do it. It was a step I needed to take but not one I was prepared for. Unfortunately, it was out of my control.
Both Hugh and I did really well with it all. I thought it was going to be harder then it was. Ironically, the staff was there that helped us when we brought George in. They had all gotten the monkeys I sent them earlier in the AM. Jen, the girl I knew from when I was growing up who was the one doing George's chest compressions, saw us and came in and started to talk to us. At first she didn't know what to say or how to really talk to us but once we got over the akwardness, it was a good thing for us. She lives down the street from us with her parents while they are waiting to settle on their house.
She told us that they had wanted to come to the service but didn't want to upset us that day. We told her that the web page on my letter was where they could watch his service and catch up with our family if they want to. She also told me the woman who I had spoken with yesterday about the in service was there and she was going to tell her if it was ok with us. We finally met her and I told her that Dr. Hirsch called and said he was on board with it and that he was coming over tomorrow and I would talk to him about it all. They told me that the ER staff was all excited about it and ready to really learn about it all. I can't tell you what peace I found in that. It meant that his life and death had true meaning behind it not just to us but to others.
We finally got home and put the kids to bed. They wanted a drink and what do I come across, two of George's baby bottles. I thought I had gotten all of them out of my cabinet but they weren't. Then I was on the phone when my mom accidentally asked me if I wanted her to invite a family member to "the baby's party" and I just started to cry. All of the days events coupled with it being 7 weeks now, I just couldn't hold it in anymore. I know she meant Michael but he is not my baby, George was my baby. She felt horrible and I know she didn't mean it but it was just so hard to hear.
This has just been one day of emotional roller coasters and I really thought that it wouldn't be that way. The past few days have been "good days" and the morning was ok so I thought this would be my first Friday that I would get through without feeling horrible. Boy was I wrong!!! These are the days I ask God what in the world he is thinking and how much more does he really think we can handle. Where in the world is our break from this all? In the end we will get through this too and at least we know there is hope for good to come out of this all in the end.
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