I know, he's simply irresistible. And yet, such a wonderful miracle almost came with a significant price. My sister's pregnancy had been, for the most part, normal and problem-free. Sure she had the typical pregnancy woes, but her health was never in question. All of that changed in what seemed like an instant. She went from being an expectant mom to a critical intensive care patient in a manner of hours. I assumed everything was ok, only to find out that her life had been in jeopardy. As "no-nonsense" as I am, this rocked me to the core.
So when the Man woke up delirious and pale, I had flashbacks to my poor sister waking up in the ICU. I understand that a fever and headache aren't necessarily life-threatening, but at the time I just couldn't shake the memory of my sister being fine one instant and critical the next.
Praise the Lord my sister made a full recovery and is the healthy mother of the most ridiculously lovable boy in the entire world. (Oh and the Man made a full recovery as well -- the two Tylenol did the trick.)
Whew! All of that just for Saturday. Easter Sunday was spent rejoicing our Savior's victory over death, eating more food than what we thought was humanly possible, and fighting over who got to hold Sir Booska. Nothing says, "He is risen!" like "Shutup and give him to me - you don't know what the heck you're doing!" Luckily, no fistfights broke out.