“I want you get better, Mommy. I want you with me.”

Yesterday my babies came to visit me at the hospital. I’ve been here since Tuesday after my flare became so severe I was extremely dehydrated and writhing in pain on the floor. Before they left my little one asked me if I still had boo boos in my tummy and then blurted out the quote above. 

He’s 3. 

My heart breaks to see my children worry for their mommy and it aches for their hugs and kisses. Being separated from them these last few days has made me feel so isolated. It’s as if I’m missing an arm or a leg. 

Tomorrow I will get to go home. Tomorrow I will be with my babies. Tomorrow.




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