When we leave the hospital, I always feel like it should be impossible for anyone to go on with life as usual while Lauren is in here. Our lives seem to have come to a grinding halt. Most of the time I am unsure what time it is, much less what day it is. The past week has blurred together as a series of procedures and prayers.
Being in the ICU with Lauren has been difficult as we hear of the stories of the other families with loved ones here as well. Some of them, like another little girl named Lauren who is only 3 days older than our baby girl and had heart surgery on Tuesday, have had happy stories and are on their way to recovery. Unfortunately, over the past few days we have seen that not everyone leaves the ICU smiling as they leave to other parts of the hospital to watch them get better. We have spoken with a family who experienced negligence at another hospital and now their baby has permanent brain damage and there is nothing more that can be done. We have watched a family weep and cry out as their youngest son was declared brain dead and another sob as their son suddenly took a turn for the worse and had his heart stop.
For all of the families with loved ones in the ICU life has stopped. We are in a holding pattern, sitting in waiting rooms, holding hands at bedsides, and sharing our stories with one another.
Our lives will never be the same. How can things that we knew were a waste of time before take anymore time away from time spent in relationship? At the end of our lives we don't say, "I wish I had watched that last season of The Bachelor." We don't want more time for meaningless waste for that, we want more time to be with the people we love.
I pray that God bring healing sweeping through the ICU. Healing for the little bodies in here and healing for the hearts that love them. Our children are not in here alone.
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