In the Hardest Week: Hospital Stays, Raw Emotions, and Holding Onto Hope

This past week has stretched me in ways I never imagined. What started as a joyful anticipation of welcoming Stella into the world has turned into one of the hardest, most emotional journeys of my life.


Separation and Surrender

Right now, our family is spread thin. Roger is home with Iris, taking care of the cats and preparing for our return. Dom and I are staying with my parents to help me heal. And our sweet Stella remains in the nursery at Greenville Memorial, receiving the extra support her little body needs.

She has been battling jaundice, weight loss, and feeding challenges. Today, the doctors placed an NG tube to help her eat and conserve energy. The plan is for her to have 12–24 hours with the tube, then another 24 hours of bottle feeding and weight checks before we can hopefully bring her home.

It’s so hard to leave her there. But deep down, I know this is what’s best. She needs rest, and I need space to heal after the trauma of birth.



The Raw Emotions

The emotions feel heavier than words can capture. One moment I am grateful. The next, I am angry. Then sad. Then overwhelmed.

The guilt creeps in: Am I doing enough? The fear whispers: What if she doesn’t improve? The grief rises: This isn’t the story I pictured.

I’ve cried more tears this week than I can count. I’ve felt the sting of missing my other kids, the ache of separation, and the frustration of my body still recovering. This hospital room has been filled with prayers, laments, and moments of surrender.

And still — I keep whispering the prayer I know to pray:
“Thy will be done.”


Gratitude in the Middle

Even in the heaviness, I have so much to be thankful for.

I am grateful that my body has been able to produce enough breast milk so Stella can still be nourished while she rests and heals. That is a miracle in itself, and I truly believe God is sustaining me through it — with extra help from Morvida Moringa, which has been a lifeline in supporting milk supply.

I am grateful for the lactation consultant who was my biggest advocate today. She stood by me, encouraged me, and made sure both Stella and I received the help we needed. In a moment when I felt weak and unseen, she reminded me that I was not alone.

And most of all, I am grateful for the doctors and nurses who continue to pour out their skill and compassion. God’s hand has been evident in the people He’s placed around us.


A Song for the Season

Tonight, as I sat in the quiet, a song came to mind: “How Can You Not” by Leanna Crawford.

The lyrics remind me that even in the hardest moments, even when the tears don’t stop and the questions don’t have answers, God is still here. How can I not see His goodness? How can I not trust His hand?

It’s a reminder my weary heart needed.



Encouragement for Other Mamas

If you’ve ever found yourself in the in-between — waiting, grieving, healing, hoping — I want you to know your feelings are valid. You are allowed to feel the anger, the sadness, the frustration. You are allowed to be tired, to break down, to ask why.

But in the middle of it all, remember: you don’t have to hold it all together. You don’t have to carry the guilt or fear alone. God invites us to lay it all down.

“Cast all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.” – 1 Peter 5:7 (ESV)
“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” – Psalm 34:18 (ESV)


Final Thoughts

This week has been the hardest of my life. But even here — in the hospital, at my parents house, in the tears, in the exhaustion — I see God’s fingerprints. He is sustaining me, sustaining Stella, and carrying our family.

And so I keep praying, breathing, and surrendering.
“Thy will be done.”