What if it doesn't make you stronger?

When my son was about 3 months old, he got very very ill. He was struggling to breathe and his tempreture would not cool down, regardless of what we did.We rushed to the emergency unit, only to be told that they don't deal with infants - we had to take him to a hospital about 10 minutes away.

I wrapped my baby up and bundled him close to my chest and rocked him as I checked to see if he was still breathing...

We got there at 1:30am and the childrens ward was dark, but the nurses were friendly. They took him out of my arms, while my husband sorted out our medical aid at the front desk. Without it, they wouldn't take us in...they spent the next hour giving him medication and placed a mask on his face to help him breathe. My little boy cried and cried and I sat there next to his hospital crib and tried to be strong for us all...he finally fell asleep and I was faced with The Chair.

Old and made of hard pleather, the nurse said that I could sit there as I watched over my son. The first night, I didn't sleep. Covered with a scratchy blanket, my eyes trained on him- every sound and movement elliciting immediate action from me - I kept on thinking if I looked away that he would die. The 2nd night, my bones ached and emotionally I was drained to my core. A pervasive sadness spread through me, from my toes to my eyes. My son is sick and I can't help him. I sat and sat in that damn chair, to scared to even go to the bathroom. I was tired and alone and in despair in the dim light of the hospital ward.

And thats how I feel now. After the adrenaline of his polygraph last week and choosing to believe him, my heart has returned to its familiar rythym. The fight or flight response is no longer needed and I am weary to my core. I am alone in that chair again, praying for help. I am sick and tired of my questions and doubts. It weighs on me and I fear that I may never be, who I once was. Confident, assured and happy.

The other day, we lay entwined under blankets and he smiled at me - eyes shining and soft. My husband...my traitor. For a moment I forgot all that he had done and all that I have vowed to do...here was the man I first met. A far cry from the man, who would huddle so close to the edge of the bed at night he nearly fell off or got up in the middle of night to watch porn. I relaxed my aching shoulders, willing myself to just relax in the moment - of course all that happended was prickling of tear at the corner of my eye.

I feel stuck in that chair and I don't know how to get out.

I wish healing happened in a straight line...this back and forth is just another unwelcome intrusion in the life I thought I had... what if this doesn't make me stronger? What if it just breaks me?...