Don't know how much more of this I can stand.

I am thrilled that Kaysa's made it through her latest respiratory crisis that put her into the hospital once again.  However, the stress I've been under has been incredible.  I am trying my best to be there for my other two children, Kenton and Korinne (ages three and five), but it's little Kaysa who demands my attention--and it's not just because she's the baby. 

I know they must resent their little sister for taking them away from me.

My husband and I have been fighting over the bills that continue to pile up.  It's getting to the point to where I dread the phone ringing or getting the mail (for fear of bill collectors or another medical bill).  I know the kids hear us fighting at night; I wonder if our marriage is going to last.

I don't blame Kaysa: I blame her illness more than anything.  I don't know where I could have picked up the defective gene that gave her Neimann-Pick.  I feel responsible, somehow.  I try to be positive, but when she gets sick or develops another troubling symptom, I can't help but worry or dissolve into tears.

What now?  Enough, Lord, enough!

I sometimes feel as though God's punishing me for something I did wrong in life.  Why would God punish me by giving me a defective child?

Yet that's exactly what He has done.  And I am so depressed at times about it I don't know what to do.

You can tell I'm having one of those "poor, poor pitiful me" type of days.  I am entitled to one of those from time to time.  When things pile up or when my youngest child gets sick, it seems my whole life just stops, and I don't know what to do, where to turn, who to go to for help.

I feel like one of those hamsters on a wheel:  running for all my worth, getting nowhere fast.

If anyone can offer me any suggestions on how to handle life, please don't hesitate to let me know.  I'm open to all sorts of suggestions!  Thanks!

~Kaylee Beausoleil  :(