I'm so lonesome I could cry.

I had Stellan to keep me company in the plane today. He was the softest, snuggliest, sleepiest flying companion I've ever had. He is none the wiser about any worries and is as happy as a toothy little clam. We are together and I couldn't be happier about that.

But I'm so lonesome I could cry.

We were surrounded by people on the plane. People. People everywhere. Throngs of uniformed Japanese school children half filled the plane. They were adorable. And so polite! I gave the boys next to me a bag of chips. And they must have each thanked me six times throughout the course of the flight. We had a nice chat. Stellan played with his toes and giggled. The flight attendants were helpful. My college soccer coach's husband was on our flight and he prayed over us.

But I'm so lonesome I could cry.

I know I'm not alone. But I feel alone. I know this isn't all about me, it's about Stellan. About God. About others, not me. But I don't feel it. I just feel lonesome tonight. I am trying. Trying to remember that I just had to do step one: get Stellan to Boston. I can tackle tomorrow tomorrow. I am trying to remember that! But it's hard when I am feeling like I am feeling.

I feel so lonesome I could cry.

Stellan and I are surrounded on all sides by love and support. We are being lifted up, assisted, loved on, helped. So what is wrong with me!? Why do I feel this way!? There are Tweets and comments and emails and phone calls and text messages. And yet.

I'm so lonesome I could cry.

I don't want company. I don't want to be alone. Part of me doesn't even want to be in Boston. I'd like to turn around while I still can and take Stellan home, before I even take him to be admitted to the hospital tomorrow. I know I don't really want that. But I feel like I want that. And tonight...

...I'm so lonesome I could cry.

It came upon me like a crushing weight when we arrived at the patient and family housing building near Children's Hospital Boston. It is new. Unfamiliar. With my heavy, weary, crabby, tired, hungry babe in arms, I was shown to the tiny room we are fortunate to be able to stay in near the hospital. The sweet resident assistant showed us the towels, the bathroom, the communal kitchen, the cupboards and then our bed. She said goodnight and the door clicked behind her. And I was overcome.

I'm so lonesome I could cry.

There are people everywhere here. Many of them live here long term, being treated at the Children's Hospital. Everyone is running up and down the halls, laughing and giggling. Stomping, opening doors, drawing curtains, telling bedtime stories. But I don't know any of these people. It's just me. Stellan. God. And lots of strangers. I am thankful we have a place to stay. So thankful. But I can't help but feel lonesome tonight.

Yes, I'm so lonesome I could cry.

I miss my husband. I ache for him as if it were eight months since I'd seen him instead of just eight hours. My arms long for my other children. I miss the smell of my city, the look of our roads and the squish of my pillow. My friends are not here. Other people's friends are. And I'm sure they are nice. Any so many people have it so, so much worse.

But I'm so lonesome I could cry.

Stellan is none the wiser. He is happy. Asleep beside me as I write this. So I will refocus. I will. He is the reason I am doing this. It is not so bad. This is a great place. I will remain positive for Stellan. A calm presence for him. I will meet new people. The doctors here will help us. There are families who have endured much, much worse. I will remind myself that we have so much support it's near ridiculous. Tell myself that God promises He is always with us, even when we don't feel it. That I have a loving family, a home, health insurance, life, opportunity.

Why do I feel so lonesome!?

Man, what is wrong with me!? Am I really so self absorbed? Should I really publish this post for others to read? To admit that I feel so lonesome I could cry and am all wrapped up in that instead of on more important things!? Maybe I'll feel better after a good night's sleep. My mind is all a race. Swirling, swimming. What the heck, I'll just push publish, why not. Unabashed rambling is good sometimes. A run-on stream of consciousness post from a tired, scared mom alone in a new city never hurt anyone, right? Oh, well.

I'm too lonesome to care right now anyway.