I'm home now, but Baby Girl is still at the hospital. The Captain took over last night and let me return to the homefront. Really it is impossible for me to be content in either place. If I'm at the hospital, my heart is breaking for the little ones crying at bedtime for me at home and if I'm home, I wonder and worry about my Baby Girl and those caring for her.
We were blessed with an amazing day nurse yesterday. A mother herself and growing up in a family of nine children she laughed out loud when she asked me if all of our other children were coming to visit and I replied, "No, only five are coming." It was a nice change from the 4th year resident who saw us and asked a barrage of questions (that I had already answered 800 million times) including, "So, you have seven kids...umm...how's that working out for you?" Tired, worried, and in no mood to debate my reproductive/adoptive parenting choices with this twenty-something woman, I simply shook my head and stated, "Fine." I think she actually wrote that down.
So, additional tests are being run, antibiotics have been started, she will probably be in the hospital a little longer until we have all things run to ground. Please keep praying. It has carried us through these last few days and nights.