My Sweet "Littlest" Man

I'm not even sure where I start this. I'm writing this at 3:45am, awake, watching my little baby lay in a hospital bed on a ventilator, fighting a virus that for most of us wouldn't be more than a common cold. We've made a lot of progress since Saturday, but we aren't out of the woods yet. And I'm still terrified.

I want to go back to Christmas Day, when this was just a little cold and I could still hold him as much as I wanted. When he fell asleep on my husband's chest and gave us the best picture ever:


I can't stand seeing him like this. All these tubes, wires, and machines beeping day and night. I can't stand seeing his eyes closed. I love his eyes, they are so perfectly round, and normally wide open and curiously looking around(usually with a sideways stare in his big brother's direction as if to say "What on earth are you doing?")

I know there's a lot more I could be writing, should be writing right now, but for now this is all I can get out before the tears start. Besides, if I hurry, I can get in an hour or so sleep before my evil alarm goes off again reminding me its time to pump.