Sleep, my Babe

We've been here before. Not the Pediatric ICU, because last time it was the Neonatal ICU, but indeed, we have been here before.

We've been in this limbo of watching and waiting. Of praying and trusting in the dual powers of God and modern day medicine to see our girl through. 

We've been in the land of wires and tube and lines; going from somewhere to somewhere else; monitoring vital systems, removing waste, delivering medication and precious oxygen. A puzzling maze tethering the patient--in this case, our daughter--to the bed, beeping and sounding alarms, mapping a multitude of peaks and valleys on the monitor with a tendency to hypnotize any unsuspecting observer. Making it near impossible to provide any sense of physical comfort through human touch.

Almost exactly four years ago

We've been here before. Watching our sleeping girl. And while a sleeping child is truly the most beloved sight, a sedated-sleeping child is quite the opposite. The oddly-colored skin, swollen from surgical positioning and medications. The wincing and twitching. The moaning and whimpering. A sedated-sleeping child is not in dreamland; they are in a land of limbo. Just like the anxious observers (i.e. parents). 

A little bigger this time

Except this time we know we get to keep her. We know that we will be taking her home. We know that they'll be time for us to sleep later, because right now she needs us next to her, humming and shushing and praying and singing her favorite lullabies: "You are my Sunshine," "Don't Worry About a Thing," "Jesus Loves Me." Her most frequent request is "Skeeters"-- the one most near and dear to my heart that my dad sang to me and his mom to him...

Skeeters are a hummin' on the honeysuckle vine

Sleep Kentucky Babe

Sandman is a comin' for this little babe of mine

Sleep Kentucky Babe

Silvery moon is shinin' in the heavens up above

Bob-o-link is pinyin' for his little lady love

You is mighty lucky, Babe of ole Kentucky

Close your eyes and sleep

Go to sleep, la la la la

Lay your little golden head, on your mama's breast

Oo Oo Oo oooooo

Oo Oo Oo oooooo

Close your eyes and sleep

Willa has heard that lullaby since her very first fighting day. My Grammy, who passed it down our family, died a week after Willa got her halo. Clearly she has been watching over Willa ever since.