Elephants

This is a hard one to write. Naya has had a pretty terrible day. Her lungs are just so bad. That's really it. They are bad. Horrible. Probably unfixable. It pains me to even type that. I know that we have really tried to stay positive during this whole thing and are still trying but it's hard to do so when that giant elephant in the room keeps punching you in the face. Her lungs are just not healing themselves. She developed another pneumothoryx today. She already has two chest tubes and we are not going to stick another one in her. Therefore, we need to hope and pray that one of these two chest tubes can find the air that is stuck in her chest and get it out. Kolette and Tara (and earlier today, Brooke and Lisa) have all tried to position her to do so. It's sort of working right now but for how long? How much more of this can her poor little body take? How can it possibly break out of this nasty, vicious cycle? I want to believe that she can. That her will to survive will be able to persevere. But it's hard in light of all the concrete evidence. That nasty elephant in the room keeps sticking it's fat ass in our faces. I have to force my fingers to type this but I honestly don't know if she is going to make it through the night. I want her to. I would give anything to switch places with her right now. Let her live a life that doesn't involve tubes and ventilators and drugs, even for a second. But I can't - that's the reality. I can't do anything. I can sit her and watch her sats go up or down and try to will them to move in the direction I want but that's it. I can watch while our wonderful nurses try to position my baby in a position that might save her life but I can't even help them. I can't hold her. I can't even cry because I'm so exhausted and emotionally drained. I can't do anything but pray that I'm not sitting here, watching her die.