My Poor Sick Boy

I have spent the last couple of days cooped up inside.  Not so unusual in the middle of Winter right?  Except that the sun has actually been shining this week.  It is beautiful out, and we are stuck in.  Owen is sick, and not just running nose sick, I am talking big time sick; like lungs full of fluid, can't breath, sleep all day, vomit all night, and no wet diapers sick.  We have been to the doctor twice this week (three times in the past two weeks).  They have told me that he does not have pneumonia, no strep throat, no more ear infection, and they doubt that it is a gasto problem.  So then, what is it?  I have no idea, and I honestly don't think that the doctors do either, because they did not test him for anything.  They just look at him and say, "Well he seems to be doing ok." 

 

"Ok?"  I don't want him to be doing "ok."  I want him to be doing better.  I want to figure out what the heck is wrong with him, so that I can help him get better.  If you have ever had a sick baby, I am sure you know what I mean.  It is the hardest thing to watch your baby suffer.  He just wants to be held all day and sleep in my arms.  But he never really sleeps, he just moans, while he tries to rest through his labored breathing.  It breaks my heart to helplessly watch him, and hold him, and know that there is nothing more I can do. 

I can tell you that my testimony has been growing through this all.  The longer I am a parent, the more of an appreciation and understanding I have of the atonement.  I am so grateful that our Heavenly Father loves us enough that he sent his Son to atone for us, and suffer with us.  What I great comfort that is. I am grateful that Tom has the priesthood, and has been able to give Owen a blessing.  I know that Owen is going to pull out of this, maybe not as fast I had hoped, but he will get better.