One Month

It's been a month since my mom, my husband and I first started showing symptoms of Covid.

After two weeks of a fairly rough bout of what felt like an intense case of the flu, Matt and I started to get better.

Mom got worse.

It's been a month since my dad took my mom to the hospital.

It's been a month since we officially found out she had Covid-19 and bacterial pneumonia.

It's been a month since she was first put on oxygen.

It's been two weeks to the day since she was put on a ventilator.

It's been two weeks since I got a call from the ICU doctor on my mom's phone telling me my mom wanted to speak to me. My mom, with horrible, gasping, ragged breaths told me that Dad said everything was going to be okay and she loved me. I could barely understand her and the doctor had to repeat what she'd said. I told her I agreed with Dad and everything was going to be okay. I told her I love her so much and she replied, "I know you do."

I hung up the phone and sobbed harder than I've ever cried in my life.

It's been two weeks since I've spoken to my best friend, my confidante, the one I talk to about any- and everything, no matter how ridiculous or serious. 

I feel like I'm missing a limb; like I only have half my heart. When I say my mom and I are close, it doesn't even begin to compare to the truth. My mom has always been one of my biggest supporters and one of the first people I always run to. Our souls are entwined with an extraordinary bond and I don't know how else to explain it. We can look at each other and know what the other is thinking. My mom and I are TIGHT. To be without her this long, to be on this horrific emotional roller coaster of not knowing if she's getting better or worse, to be scared and worried but hopeful and full of faith... To say I am emotionally--and consequently, physically--exhausted is a gross understatement. 

I am devastated and heartbroken that the greatest, most loving and caring, sweetest, strongest woman I know is going through the journey of fighting this wretched disease. 

This has been the worst two weeks of my life, and a part of me feels guilty for feeling that way because anything I'm going through is nothing compared to what she's going through. She's in the fight of her life. I'm trying to banish that kind of negativity because logically, I know it's healthy to have those feelings as long as I don't feed into them too much. I just want my mom healthy and whole again.

I trust that Jesus will heal her, but I'm human too. I'm worried and scared and just wanting her healing progress to be expedited. 

If you happen to be reading this, please pray for my mom. We're asking for a miracle. Please pray for my dad and me and the rest of our family who are worrying and missing her terribly. I'm asking for prayer everywhere I can and I'm truly thankful for anyone who is praying for her.

Hopeful in the midst of suffering,

Risa