Seriously. I think God is trying to teach me a lesson. Even the best laid plans, the most thought out systems, the most stringent adherence to the rules, and we still get crapped on. Seriously? Even before Elijah was born, we knew that he could not get sick. We started taking better care of ourselves, eating better, and taking stock in hand sanitizer (it is all over my house). Dion and I were not getting sick, and even Noah was able to ward off colds. Things were looking good... until June. If you read my previous posts, you already know that we have fought one round of illness that ended with Elijah being admitted to the hospital for a week. Then, less that two weeks after discharge, it hits again. Dion, Noah, Dion's sister, and Dion's niece all get sick. The little guy manages to fight it off for a while, but finally gets the sniffles as everyone else is recovering. Of course I am freaking out. However, he keeps drinking and his oxygen levels are ok (not great, but ok) and we are able to stay home. Noah never really recovers and I ended up having to take him to the doctor last week only to find out that he has double ear infections, poor guy. Dion had been feeling better but, as of today, is now down for the count again. We just can't seem to kick it.
I took Elijah to his once a month, marathon cardiologist appointment on Tuesday. His cardiologist had been concerned about his dropping oxygen levels at his last appointment and had scheduled his cath for July 5th. On Tuesday, he was really concerned and wanted it moved up to Thursday (a week early). He admitted that they were cathing him earlier than typical but they need to see what is going on. He also said that it is possible that they could decide to do his next open heart surgery with the admittance for the cath. Wow... I wasn't quite prepared for that. Of course, it depends on what they see when they go in, but we need to be ready.
My emotions are so conflicted. On one hand, I am excited for him to get the Glen (his next surgery) so that he can be more stable and not so fragile. On the other hand I am terrified to send my tiny little baby under the knife again. I just can't get the image of his open chest out of my mind. They say this procedure is easier than the first. I guess I have to take their word for it. His little chest has healed so nicely and if you don't see the scars, you wouldn't even know something was wrong with him. It will all be opened up again. He will be in so much pain again. Pain that I can't take away.
On another, happier note, we are trying to enjoy our summer. Although we have been fairly housebound this summer, I was able to take both boys to the beach with the help of my sister on Saturday. We had a tent of sorts for the baby and lots of sunblock for Noah. Noah was scared of the ocean, but loved the sand. Of course even with lots of sunscreen and the shade of our little tent, I burnt like a lobster. Noah also started swimming lessons today. Dion took him and said that he seemed to really enjoy it. We really are trying to keep life moving forward with Noah. His Aunty comes over every week and takes him places and he is one happy camper. Dion and I were able to get away for a couple of days with the help of my mom and sister. It was nice to relax and have some time together without the stress of daily life. Even though we are living in a kind of purgatory right now, I truly do have so very much to be grateful for and so many people have helped and supported us through all of this. Although it may sound strange, I can honestly say that we have been blessed.
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