hospital withdrawals

I'm home from the hospital. I just spent the last 114 hours at a hospital with my baby. I'd say 110 of those were spent with her in her hospital room.

For four nights I slept on a fold out chair that resembled a bed/cot/sleeping device that stared at her crib. Sometimes I'd put up a blanket so when she woke up in the middle of the night she wouldn't be able to see me and would roll over and go back to sleep. sometimes...I'd leave the blanket down so we could both see each other.

And now...I am less then 10 feet away in our own home...our sanctuary...and I can't seem to go to bed. closing my eyes means I am not watching her anymore. And right now...I can't do that.

I have to go back to work tomorrow. Do the NORMAL thing. Be a working stiff and bring home the bacon and play like my life isn't worrying about my daughter losing her life every single day.

Every time I see her life flash before my eyes...or a scare happens where we can't get her to stop bleeding...or her counts drop...or I find myself screaming SHIT SHIT SHIT as I untangle an IV line from around her neck...I reminded that life isn't about clean kitchens or perfect grades or new stuff...it's about our not-so little family...and how much our crazy All American family loves each other.

I wonder if she'll mind if I sleep on her floor tonite. Or in her crib wrapped tightly around her. Or if I pull Jason and Kindred and her all in my bed and make them snuggle with me.

I might need a bigger bed.