She woke up around 1:30am with her usual 6am greeting of “I’m awake!” She often has other things to say, too, but this morning she kept it simple. Poor thing couldn’t keep sleeping due to her coughing, wheezing, feverish body.

We went to her aid, hoped a little attention and some vaporub was all she needed to get her back into slumberville. Not so much.

Daddy lay next to her bed to give her comfort. She accepted it. But it wasn’t long before she was in his arms as he sat in the comfy chair trying to ease her mind to sleep.

I couldn’t sleep. I googled wheezing. I got a little lost in one of the ten million Safari browsers open on my phone. Then they came into our room, she in his arms.

She was very compliant when it came to laying in mummy and daddy’s bed but she still couldn’t get to sleep. So neither could we. By now it was probably at least 2:45am.

Justin went on a hunt for the saline drops. No success. During that time, she declared that a walk was in order. I had the unfortunate task of letting her know that it wasn’t 6:30am and that we ALL needed to go back to sleep. She began to cry.

We talked. I held her in my arms. She jumped up and down on the bed. Maybe not in that order. Finally, she put her head on my leg and stayed still for a good while. By the time Justin returned, she was fast asleep. We very carefully placed her in a more favorable position so that we could, indeed, all get back to sleep.

Justin slept. I could not. The sound of her slightly labored breath kept my brain processing. I timed her breathing at least three times during the night, making sure she wasn’t in the 40-60 breaths-per-minute range which would mean an ER visit. Which would mean zero sleep. Which would make for quite the intro story for my sermon. I mean, I’d have to weave it in somehow coz the members would be wondering why in the world I’m wearing jeans and looking bushwhacked.

To be continued…