Alone

I found myself sitting in this hallway, a long, dark, cold hallway on the other side of the hospital tonight. I sat in a chair outside the doors they wheeled our Ashley through just moments before. The weight in my chest was so heavy as I sat and listened to the beat of my heart and the sounds of my own breath. All of a sudden I felt more alone than I think I have my entire life. My husband was 700 miles away. My baby was on the table once again. In those moments I realized that I was here alone. Again.

She was gone behind those doors for just over an hour. The doctor stepped out and told me she had gotten a double lumen back in place. She told me they flushed great and should work well for infusing all of the support she would be needing. I asked her how they draw and she said "they do not". I couldn't believe it. NO BLOOD DRAWS from either lumen. I was more than devastated. I cried the ugly, ugly cry right there in that hallway except I was no longer alone. She didn't know what to do with me. She began to explain why they won't draw and the nightmare that has been left inside of my sweet Ashley's anatomy. As I cried she tried to console. "She will be fine. She just needs a few weeks. This line will do that." What she did not realize was that the news she shared with me was as good as sealing the fate of my daughter. There will be no other options. She either survives this episode with this one line in place or we lose. We lose her. It will end. Without access we will be finished fighting.

Not only are we dangerously close to losing my daughters ability to fight back without venous access, but she has scheduled blood draws every 6 hours. EVERY 6 HOURS! My heart is broken. As if it could shatter into anymore pieces. She won't survive the searching for veins. Her veins will NOT hold up to the amounts of blood they will be requiring from her every single day that we are here. I can't describe to you how it feels to watch her be held down as they dig for a vein that will give enough blood before it collapses. Its the hardest thing for me to see. We have to develop a plan. A plan to get her access for blood draws. A plan to take place tomorrow before the team switches around. I can't do this with the next surgeon who is coming in this weekend. I need Ashley's surgeon's help. TOMORROW!

My girl is so brave. You would be so proud of this little girl. Oh how her beauty takes our breath away. Her spirit is so strong. Her will to live this life no matter what is dealt her way and still smile about the littlest things amazes me. Ashley Kate, your mommy and daddy love you. We love you so very much. We are so proud of you.

Tonight I have been surrounded by compassionate staff. The doctor who placed the line held onto my shoulders as they shook uncontrollably and told me she too had a four year old daughter. She couldn't imagine being on my side of things. The anesthesiologist was the kindest man. He watched me wipe my tears away as I tried to look him in the eyes as he spoke to me. He assured me thing would be ok. He was so sorry for he too had a little one. The recovery room nurse was praying for my daughter to beat this thing. She wants her to make it back home to Texas. On the floor the compassion and understanding from the nurses on tonight is amazing. They know our hearts are broken as we wonder if our Ashley will be leaving this place. They knew we could not poke around on her tonight. My heart couldn't handle it. Its just too fragile tonight. They have gone above and beyond to make my sweet Ashley comfortable. They were able to take blood from a peripheral IV that was left in from the OR. They sent the lab down and will be using it as her morning draw so that no one comes is to wake my sweet girl up at 5 am with a needle. I have no idea what tomorrow will be like for us girls, but tonight I realized that I'm not really alone here. I'm not. Because of your prayers throughout tonight's goings on God has surrounded me with people to love on my sweet baby. They have supported her mommy as she began to crumble in a pile on the floor of that dark hallway. The outcome of tonight's events were not positive. We still have no way to really access blood from Ashley outside of torturing her on a daily basis for the upcoming months. Tomorrow we will beg for a plan. That plan may very well include yet another trip to the operating room. Who knows for sure? I just know that tonight I may have started the journey in the hall alone, but I didn't have to end it that way. For that I can say that I am grateful. Even if its all I have to hang on to at this moment. I have something to thank Him for.

Goodnight and God bless you. Thank you for loving us so very much. Thank you for staying up to pray. Thank you to those who shared you are waking up throughout the night to pray. Thank you. From the bottom of my broken heart. Thank you.