Dear Journal,

It's been a really rough night. Here I am at nearly 4 a.m. with a sick kid in the emergency room. Sadie and I rushed Zach into the ER after he had a temperature of 104.3 degrees and a persistent dry cough that shook his whole tiny body. I didn't think it was possible to be this scared. Sadie keeps trying to calm me back down, saying that it isn't good for the baby for me to get all riled up like this.

Looking at his little face while he's sleeping in that big hospital bed scares me. This isn't supposed to happen. Zach is a healthy little boy. He's never been sick like this before. He's only two years old, for crying out loud. He's so little and helpless. He's been wheezing all night long.

I am so exhausted. Sadie keeps telling me I should get some sleep. There's a line of hard chairs in this room and they don't look comfortable. I can't sleep when my little boy is this ill anyway. What kind of mother sleeps on hard chairs when her son is running a fever of over 104 degrees? Not me. Pregnant or not, I'm not sleeping until I know Zachary's going to be okay.

The doctor just came in and examined Zach. She says she believes he has pneumonia. They're admitting him. She says she's going to find him a room and get it set up and then we can take him upstairs. This is a nightmare. Sadie keeps hugging me and telling me that everything is going to be okay. I don't see how she can be so optimistic and light-hearted like this. Actually, I do. She hasn't had her heart ripped to pieces like I have in the last eighteen months.

Sadie went down to the cafeteria. She says I need something to eat. I whole-heartedly disagree with her. I'm not hungry. I don't need anything to eat. I can't eat when Zach can't eat. His forehead is all sweaty and he's been complaining that he's cold. How can he be cold with a fever of 104.3 degrees?

The nurse is going to take him in for a couple of x-rays. Radiation like that can't be good for him. I should have protected him more. It's probably my fault that he's sick. He probably got into something at the rehearsal space and it attacked his tiny lungs.

It's nearly 6:30 in the morning. I've been writing in this thing sporadically for the past two and a half hours. A nurse just took Zach upstairs to his room. Sadie goes with him, making me feel slightly more comfortable. The doctor pulls me aside and explains what's wrong with Zach.

"Ms. Harrison, your son has contracted bacterial lobar pneumonia, most likely from a respiratory virus. The dry, hacking cough that you informed us about is due to his effort to get the fluid out of his lungs. Bacterial lobar pneumonia is a rather serious condition," she says quickly.

"What does that mean?" I ask, freezing.

"Perhaps you would like to sit down?" she asks, gesteuring to a nearby loveseat.

"I'm fine," I say, biting my bottom lip.

"Your son is going to be here for a while. We'll give him penicillin and intraveneous fluids to make him breathe easier. We'll also put him on oxygen. Was your son born prematurely or was he born with any birth defects?"

"He was born about a month early. He weighed five pounds and two ounces," I say.

"He's small for his age. It might take him a little longer to recover compared to most children," she says. "I'd say he's going to be here for at least four or five days. Maybe even a week."

So, now I have to worry about my son's health along with all of the other things I'm going through. Just peachy. I think I'm going to go upstairs and try to get a few hours of sleep on a cot next to his bed. I'm definitely going to need my energy. Let's just hope Zach sleeps for a while. Thank god Sadie's with me. I don't know what I would have done without her being here tonight.

More later.

Love always,

xXx Jude xXx