Tomorrow is Mother's Day.  A day that I always feel overwhelmed with  blessings.  My girls always work so hard at making me little things and planning to make me queen for they day. Sometimes they get so excited that they just can't wait until the big day.  Tonight E said, "I think tomorrow is going to be a lot better than last year."  I told her I was sure it would be better because it couldn't get much worse.

Last year the girls met me bright and early with the same excitement they always do on Mother's Day.  They just couldn't contain the secret gifts they had been hiding and were eager to get their plans in motion to treat me like a queen.  It was a little different for me than in years past.  I was ten days in to recovering from surgery and had been up a good deal of the night with severe pain.  As they were showering me with their gifts I could barely hold my head up.  To make a long story a little shorter, later that afternoon I began to experience the pain again but this time was losing consciousness.  Jason knew he had to get me to the hospital quickly.  Thankfully our aunt came to stay with the girls and we headed to the hospital.  As we were leaving the driveway I remember looking back at the house and seeing the girls standing in the door watching us leave. I was so thankful they didn't know the severity of what was going on. I knew things were serious.  I wasn't sure what the problem was, but I remember praying, "Please don't let them lose their mother on Mother's Day."

When we arrived at the ER I was in poor enough shape that they whisked me away very quickly and began pumping me with fluids.  My blood pressure was extremely low, I was in extreme pain and they didn't know why.  I remember a lady exchanging some sharp words with the person wheeling my gurney and then explaining to me that she was the charge nurse and they were just going to take me where I could get a little more TLC.  TLC in the form of morphine, monitors, and staff that never left the room.  I had been in the ER before but never received treatment like this!  After a battery of tests they discovered that I had blood in my abdomen and they didn't know where it was coming from.  With many apologies they told me surgery was inevitable.  "Dr. Kreske is on his way.  He lives 20 minutes from the hospital and as soon as he arrives you'll be going into surgery."  At the time I couldn't understand why everyone was so apologetic.  I was bleeding internally and they were going to save my life.  I was grateful. 

I remember even through the morphine saying goodbye to Jason.  It was so different than the goodbye when they wheeled me off to surgery 10 days before.  I was having my gall bladder removed laparoscopically.  It is one of the most common surgeries in America but I was so afraid of all of the "what-ifs?"  I was crying as they wheeled me away, imangining that I may never wake up.  In stark contrast,  this time I was as cool as a cucumber.  Perhaps it was the morphine, but I am more inclined to believe it was God's grace.  I knew that people were already praying for me.  I remember telling  Jason a few of my wishes just in case and then asked him to pray.  When they came to take me, my eyes were dry this time.  I wasn't afraid.  I remember Jason's eyes, they had a look of concern that I have rarely seen. 

Hours later, as I began to wake up, I realized why everyone had been so apologetic! I have a foggy memory, that seems more like a bad dream, that includes me moaning in pain and banging on the side of my bed for someone to come help.  There was a figure standing at a distance saying, "I'm sorry, I've given you everything that I can."  My next memory is of waking up in a hospital room.  Nurses were hooking me up to monitors and putting oxygen tubes in my nose but most importantly Jason was there.  I faded in and out of sleep and Jason was always there when I woke up. 

After five long days of broth, jello, blood draws, and a close call with a pain medication overdose, I was released from the hopsital.  I remember how bright the sun seemed as I took my wheel chair ride to the car.