My son is in the pediatric intensive care unit. He's going to be ok, though that wasn't always clear. In fact, we've several times had the conversation that had we waited just a small amount of time longer to take him to the emergency room, we'd have been burying our son. I can't describe the fear, tears and sense of fragility the last few days have brought.

He came into the world when my husband, daughter and I all had a nasty cold. Within a few days he was a bit congested but still doing quite well with it. Monday night he went lethargic on me, started showing no interest in nursing (having been my hour and a half champ, like clockwork) and I started getting worried. Then he started turning blue.

By the time we drove to the ER he was having episodes of skipping breaths. At one point there were 10 people working on him at once. He was so out of it that he didn't react or protest during the insertion of an IV, pokes for blood tests or even the lumbar puncture to check his spinal fluid. There was no sign of my fighter in his eyes.

He's getting better. We now know he's fighting some sort of bacterial infection though we're still not clear what. It's not RSV as they first thought, though he's having to have his nose and throat suctioned regularly. He's nursing again, fighting again, and much to my relief getting pissed about diaper changes again. He's still on oxygen, and they will not be letting us go home tomorrow. Maybe Friday, more likely this weekend.

I'll update as I can. In the meantime, if you pray I'd appreciate it and welcome good thoughts if you don't.