Supreme Tiredness

I'm really really tired, and I mean physically. I'm just glad the virus hasn't gotten to me (yet, touch wood!). Lucas has passed his initial 24 hours after the fits and we're starting to lengthen the intervals between his paracetamol doses. But temperature monitoring is still on an half-hourly/hourly basis, sometimes even 15 minute interval.

A few times this weekend I've been wondering if this is the meaning of parenthood, where heartaches abide aplenty, besides the mounds of joy & laughter of course. And I also wondered (just last night), why everything was happening in such quick succession - first with Faith, then a week later the MTPT, and then 2 weeks later Lucas gets his first episode. In a short space of less than a month, I've gone from happy expectant mother, to a tired and constantly worrying parent of one.

I'm extremely uncertain on how I'll do this evening at Faith's "little service". Will I break emotionally again or would I remain stoic and calm? Till now, although I'd like to believe I've moved past Faith sprouting her angel wings (much much earlier than I'd like), a little part of me still breaks for her. It's almost like I'm in those typical cartoons where the character has a little grey cloud following them wherever they go. For me, that little grey cloud comes and goes. Some days I manage to give it the slip, some days I don't.

In a sense, I'm quite thankful for Lucas falling ill. Putting my attention and energy into caring for him has taken my mind off everything else quite a bit. My heart breaks when he screams at me to go away during his medication time, but it's what I have to do. Some day he'll understand when he gets bigger. Give me an angry screamy toddler anyday, rather than one going into fits right in my arms.

It's 2 in the morning. His fever's gone down. I'm gonna take that short nap now, and check on him again at around 4am. Hope I hear my alarm and wake.