Today was not our typical kind of Sunday as we spent the better part of the afternoon and early evening in the Emergency Room with T4.  We had had a great morning, the kids made pancakes with Thomn while I tried to catch some extra sleep before the craziness of the week starts again.  T4 had a wonderful morning nap while S and I played with Play doh and Thomn worked on his dissertation.  S and I headed to the park during T’s second nap and enjoyed all the beauty of this January sunshine.  Unfortunately, T4 had different plans and awoke with a fever and rapid breathing.  After some debating, we decided to take him in.  After an emotional roller coaster of a ER visit that involved catheterizing our poor babe he seems to have one of the many viruses going around and we were sent home.  I was reflecting a bit on the car ride home (as T4 screamed because he HATES the car) and it occurred to me that Thomn and I have this never-ending fear that every illness with our kids is dire. Without a doubt this has manifested from the five miscarriages we have endured.  I know that every parent worries about their kid when they are sick, but I think that our fear goes further than it would if we hadn’t experienced so much loss.  For years, every time we went to the doctor, we were told that our child had died and a heartbreak like none other ensued.  So, I ask, will it ever end?  It has been almost two years since our last miscarriage and I can feel the heartache like it was yesterday.  Most days it fades into the background, especially as our two littles keep me more than busy.  But days like today it shines bright and makes everything a bit more skewed.  I am grateful for the extra sleep this morning as who knows what the next day or two have in store for us…just check on me in a few days – hopefully I am breathing normally by then.