Warning – if you’re not in the mood for what serves as at least a partial pity-party, then stop reading now.
I’ve had enough. 

I tried the thankful route – knowing in my heart and trying to convince my mind that gratitude and a gracious attitude would keep me from falling into a pit; that keeping my mind Christ-centered and focused on his goodness would be in my best interest. And for all intents and purposes, I suppose it did – or at least delayed the pit because well, here we are.
I figure I am human, after all.

11 days. 11 days (and long nights) of wondering, pondering, trying not to worry have left me spent. Add on top of that some mystery illness that plagued Michael and I (in similar but different ways – I’ll spare you the details) over the last 3 days and I’m surprised I’m even upright at this point.
We’re STILL trying to figure out what’s wrong with our sweet Elly. After last week’s tests that virtually only ruled out common ailments, she experienced another setback Monday night when she got sick in the middle of the night, completely unexpectedly. We put her back on the anti nausea medicine so she could at least keep food down until we could talk with her doctor on Wednesday, when she ordered an abdominal xray that showed nothing. After another visit today, we’re doing another trial run with to see if she gets sick this time without the medicine or if we’re past whatever beast this is.

So more questions. More waiting. More fearing what’s next, whether it be tomorrow or next week, based on the unpredictable nature of this crap.

I don’t survive well in wait-and-seeville. In fact, it pushes my very core being into uproar because I live to know WHY. And the waiting?! Um, yeah. Forget it. And when it’s my baby we’re dealing with, well, a hormonal 8 month pregnant momma bear is not really an ideal suit for this scenario. And quite frankly I’m over it.
I’m over the zillions of questions that ruminate in my head of whether I did/have done/am doing this or that right; of whether what I had or he had or she had was a bug or this or that and who’s giving it to who, etc; of whether I can actually breathe a sigh of relief that maybe we’re past this bout of hell we’ve been dealt for the time being or whether we’re potentially facing something long-term for Elly that’s going to be a lot of trial and error with even MORE questions. All this with the constant reminder ringing in my mind that soon I’ll be dealing with all of this TIMES TWO.
There aren’t enough anxiety meds in the world.
Don’t get me wrong for even a SECOND – I KNOW things could be (or get) worse. I have cried and prayed for mommas of chronically ill children more this week than I ever have because even a mildly sick child is enough to humble any mother to her knees in thankfulness for health. I can’t imagine what they go thru only a daily basis – that all the questions and worry are commonplace and not something they’re waiting for to pass like I am lucky enough to be at this time.

But yes, I’m tired, I’m defeated, and I’m ready to find some answers – answers that seem so elusive for the moment. But mostly I’m frustrated because I don’t know what to do from minute to minute right now except wait. And again, that’s not in my repertoire of refined skills.
So please forgive me for needing to vent, for wanting to be over this and all the questions along with this. And please pray that some answers will come and this will all be in our past soon.
And that somehow, we’ll all be stronger for it.