Please Come Home

It all started a few weeks ago. Easton and his bloody noses at least. It seemed like he would get one every other day and lately it has developed to two or three a day (most days). I have been concerned and kept telling myself not to worry about them and to just take care of him when they came. I have talked to Colby about my concerns and also my parents. As a nurse, I tend to “over analyze” and “diagnose” symptoms because “what if it’s this?” or “what if it’s that?”. Sometimes all it takes is a little reassurance from my Dad who tells me not to stress and things will be better.

Fast forward to this week:

Cohen was diagnosed with pink eye in both eyes, Trevin has been coughing his guts out (so he stayed home from school today), and Easton continues to have nose bleeds, a low grade fever, and just acts like he doesn’t feel completely himself. I was the only one who attended church on Sunday because of the illness that has been spreading throughout our family this week. Trevin seemed better yesterday and went to school. We kept Easton home. The coughing started up again last night around 6:00. I gave the boys some medicine and sent them to bed. Around midnight Cohen woke up. Colby rocked him back to sleep and came back to bed. We could hear the other two in their beds coughing off and on. My mind raced. I drifted back to sleep. Around 4:30 Cohen started crying again. I got out of bed, grabbed the thermometer, some Tylenol, and made him a bottle. He had a low grade fever, but appeared to be relaxed and comforted in my arms. As I held him for a moment, I couldn’t stop staring at him. After a few minutes I gave him the Tylenol and fed him some of his bottle. He didn’t eat much before drifting off to sleep again.

Before heading back to bed, I noticed the lamp was on in Trevin & Easton’s room with the door cracked open. I had a strong feeling to check on Easton. As I walked over to his bed, I noticed he was laying on his back with a long piece of toilet paper draped over his face. His pillow was covered in blood and he has blood down his neck and all over his lips. I tried to wipe it clean the best I could without waking him. I burst into tears. Why didn’t he come get me? Why does a little three year old boy have to deal with being comfortable cleaning up his own bloody noses? Why does this keep happening? To make matters worse, I noticed his nose had been bleeding out both sides this time and he was actually gurgling blood in the back of his throat (gross I know, but it’s the truth). After turning him on his side and making sure his nose had stopped bleeding, I cleaned his face the best I could, took the tissue, repositioned him comfortably in bed, and walked back into my room with tears in my eyes.

It hit me like a ton of bricks that tomorrow I should probably call Dr. Rosenbeck and make an appointment for Easton. I quietly woke Colby up and told him about Easton. I prayed that I might be comforted and be able to get some sleep without “over analyzing” the situation at hand.

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Today came.

After getting the boys their favorite bowl of cereal (Waffle Crisp) and making sure Cohen was okay, I texted Dr. Rosenbeck about Easton asking if he thought he needed to be seen. He suggested we should definitely draw a CBC to see what his platelet count, etc was. The day began with the boys all at home. I thought about showering and getting ready but somehow I couldn’t get myself to do that. The laundry was started, dishes cleaned, and the boys were watching some morning cartoons. While making my morning rounds around the house and picking up here and there, I walked into the boys bathroom to find a bloody mess there as well! The sink was covered in blood, the waste basket full of bloody tissues, and the toilet had a few drops of blood as well. It was clear to me that Easton had definitely been up during the night and tried his best to stop his bloody nose without waking anyone.

Throughout the day, the boys struggled listening to me, made some pretty big messes, and woke Cohen up three times. Cohen was miserable and wanted to be held all day long, Easton and Trevin played pretty well together, but were extremely wild. My house became a disaster despite my efforts to clean up as much as I could. That shower I had planned to take this afternoon never happened. Dinner was actually in the oven, but the kitchen was a huge mess. My Relief Society Presidency showed up (I forgot they were coming today) and I was still in my PJ’s with crying/wild kids. We talked for a few minutes and then I apologized for forgetting they were coming and having them see us/my house the way it was.

The second they left, I called Colby and began to cry asking him to PLEASE COME HOME. I couldn’t take it any longer.

The oven beeped and dinner was ready. Almost. I pulled the Chicken Roll Ups out of the oven and set them on top of the stove. I started a burner to hurry and make the sauce. Because I was in a hurry and holding Cohen, I turned on the wrong burner. Before realizing my mistake, the Chicken Roll Ups were burned on the bottom and the sauce was still cold. Again, the flood of tears came rolling down my face…

Colby walked in the door a few seconds later and saw me crying. The boys said they were sorry for making me cry and for not listening today. I did my best to try to ease their pain and explain I was just stressed and burned the dinner. I hugged them both, told them I loved them, provided them the unburned part of the pan for dinner, and walked into my room and broke down in front of Colby.

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I realized there is nothing better than being a mother to three of the sweetest boys in the world. I came to the conclusion that no matter what the CBC shows on Easton tomorrow, I can’t change it. I am praying for good news, but clearly my mind had been thinking the worst throughout the day. The rest of the night, I found myself looking at my children differently.

These things make my heart swell with gratitude and happiness:

The way Trevin tries to comfort Cohen when he is sad. Easton’s giggle. The way Cohen smiles and kicks his feet when he sees me walk towards him. The way Cohen fits so perfectly in my arms when I am holding him. When Easton say’s “I love you this much” with his arms stretched all the way towards his back. Or when he say’s “I love you Mom…to the the moon and stars and back.” When Trevin writes little letters to Colby and Me with his cute Kindergarten handwriting and misspelled words. When Easton pops popcorn and uses the “magic button” on the microwave that pops the popcorn perfect every time. I love them. All of them. Including my amazing husband. To the moon and stars and back. And back again.

Tonight I wore my emotions on my sleeve and let my thoughts get the best of me. I was thinking the worst for Easton without even knowing the results of his blood test. However, I am beyond grateful I had these thoughts and emotions overcome me. I looked at my life differently. I realized for a few hours, whats really important in my life. I noticed the little things in my kids that I tend to forget in the busy life we live. Instead of worrying about a messy kitchen from dinner, I popped popcorn and watched a movie with them. I held them tighter and loved them longer. I had more patience. I really, enjoyed the moment instated of just being there. And for that I am grateful.

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