Sick

So, after I wrote the last poem and before I went to bed;
I checked on Ria because I had the real fear that she's be dead.

(Yes, I know this is extreme.
It's a problem, these things I see in my waking dream.

I've had these waking dreams
as long as I can remember, from my mind beams.)

Well, when I checked on her,
her breathing was odd and I caused her to stir.

She happened to wake up and she was struggling to take in air.
I was alarmed, Jess woke up... MAN, we were a pair.

Jess comforted her for just a little while,
then handed her to me to hold her in Mama style.

In my mind I prayed for heavenly permission
to bring my eldest babe to Earth's own perdition.

Yes, the generally unwanted place - hospital,
was my hearts great desire - oh, so tall!

But the answer was a firm NO.
Yet, stubborn as I am, I couldn't let go.

I asked a few more times.
I can't think of more rhymes.

But each time I asked Father responded in a definite way.
And after a few tries I came to accept that a trip would not be today.

Ria and I began to, together, pray.
And she almost immediately began to breathe in an easier way.

She and I felt tremendous comfort.
Such joy in feeling answer to prayer of that sort.

Jess had been busy
gathering information in a tizzy.

He wanted to be ready
in case I wanted to make the trip, and was, in my decision, steady.

We both felt calm,
Gilead's own special balm!

A bit a rollercoaster for Mama since.
Over-all Ria seems to be better, I say to, me convince.

It's so difficult for Mama-at-home-all-day
to tell when there are changes either way.

Her breathing really did seem easier through most of our day.
She even felt well enough to, with Kat, run and play.

I have hope that all will be well.
Regardless of the overactive-fear-hole in which I fell.

Thank you for your prayers after reading.
I hope you'll continue to send them our way, speeding. :)