Back to the normal grind

. . . . not that I want to type out this update, but little miss Olly iss back in Intensive Care. She was doing marvelous and then yesterday she started squirming like crazy and next thing I knew she was crying to the point I couldn't get her calmed down. . . & she doesn't ever cry much. And then she was grunting every time she took a breath. So we hauled her to Newton Medical Urgent Care Clinic. . .  he said she was in respiratory distress so he tried intubating her. You as parents know how hard it is to stand by and watch your child go through something, but NEVER have I been so angry at life as I was last night. It did not go well at all & Josh & I really thought we were losing her. We were terrified. Angry. Confused. . . and then it hit me that maybe she wanted to see Lizzy. Which may sound weird, but when you have a little girl in heaven it only makes sense that with one being up there and one down here, they might miss each other.
  From there they took her by ambulance to Wesley. We didn't think we'd be coming to our old stomping grounds so soon. But here we are. The hallway on level one still smells like burnt enchiladas. The monitors are just as loud, in fact I think they are a smidge if not a lot, louder. The parking garage is still a giant maze. The only real difference is the Christmas tree in the entry-way and the wreaths that adorn the hall-way.
  After much testing and x-raying they have decided that she has a blood infection. He says preemies' immune systems are so fragile that when they get something in the upper respiratory it can turn into a blood infection. He also suspects pneumonia. So it is a waiting game now to see if it gets better or worse. They have started her on antibiotics, she's on a ventilator, back to a feeding tube, and about 73 other wires spread hither and yon all over her tiny perfect adorable body.
  I had lost all hope in life. I'm sad to say I was having a giant pity party. Nothing made sense, it didn't seem fair. You know how it goes. You look for the light at the end of the tunnel, and can't see a thing. This morning right after I woke up the little chime clock in sis's room started singing Jesus Loves Me. I never really thought about the sentence that says they are weak but He is strong. I was almost too angry to let it start breaking my wall I had so tightly built since last night. . . and once again I came to the same thing that Josh & I have come to with our little Lizzy. . . she is, after-all, God's little girl. We are only her caregivers for a very short time down here. Of course we want to watch her grow. . . comb her little fuzz on the top of her head. . . watch her little hands hold ours. . . change her outfits a dozen times in one day. . . kiss her little feet. . . convince ourselves she's smiling because she loves us. . . and tell her about the donkey clip-clopping into bethlehem on the night before christmas.
 So as of today she is doing ok. We will take it a day at a time if we can. And once again we are back to thanking each and every one of you for your support. We always used to think we wanted to live at the beach and watch the tide roll in. Sad thing is none of you are there to watch it with us. So we will stay here and watch the wind blow and the snow come down together. A lovely night to you all. . . .
    J & S & Olivia Deane