Friday Morning

Please pray for Logan this morning. He was up much of the night throwing up, which I feel awful about since it was really our fault: Neither of us gave him his evening dose of Zofran, and he clearly needs it at this point. He can't go from around-the-clock nausea control to nothing at all. This morning he's been cranky, tired and whiney, a far cry from the bouncing, cheerful little guy who ran around the ward celebrating last night when the found out he was going to be allowed to go home. There's no fever yet, but I know Adam and I are both worried that he's going to develop mucositis. The extra day and half that it took him to clear the Methotrexate has the power to truly bring about havoc, and at this point, we desperately need things to stay as 'normal' and static as possible. We're now 13 days from my due date, 15 days from Christmas, and we really, really need miracles in order to make it from one day to the next. Another extended stay at CHO -- which would be likely, almost a given if he develops mucositis -- would do a tremendous amount of damage to so, so many aspects of our holiday season. And not just in an 'I don't like it this way' kind of way; in an 'I really don't know how we're going to get through it' kind of way. Sure, we'll deal with it, but honestly, at this point, I feel like we deserve a little better. I hope that doesn't sound selfish, even though that's precisely what it is. I've already abandoned my plans and dreams for this season, so all I want now is peace, my family together for the baby's birth and Christmas under one roof (and hopefully not the roof of CHO).

Thanks for your prayers.