The Last 8 Days of our life.

Where do I start? First you should read this from my sister.

People tell you the love you will have for your children is like nothing else you've experienced before. It is boundless, an all encompassing feeling that aches in a good way.
You obviously have no idea who your child will be, but whoever it is you will love.
Mental illness puts a huge strain on that relationship. When a child struggles with depression, anxiety and other emotional issues, that love is stretched, tested in ways unimaginable.
My niece struggles with these problems and I've witnessed the lowest lows and the brightest love all at the same time. Recently my niece attempted to commit suicide, which landed her in the pediatric intensive care unit. She had restraints on her arms because she was combative, a danger to herself and others. At this point we were told that her liver might be so damaged that she would need a liver transplant, other complications could come up and death was a possibility. She needed to be monitored.
She was hallucinating, having delusions that everyone was against her. She was becoming more agitated and suddenly started to try to rip off her restraints. She got one off before we got to her. It took 6 people to hold her down. She screamed at the top of her lungs that she wanted to go home. She said many things out of anger. My sister got in her face to talk her down. I could see my sister struggling to try every tactic she could come up with, while all of us held her down, waiting for the strong medication in the IV to take effect. What finally broke me down was when my sister told her daughter she was there to save her. That she would do everything in her power so that she could live. She wanted to look at her beautiful face, to take her in every inch of her.
In that moment I understood my sister's deep strength and love. Her daughter struggling with every fiber of her being against all her mother's efforts. A mother's love does not quit.
The medication finally took effect and my niece calmed down, still having hallucinations but cooperating and even joking.
I will never forget these moments, my sister and her daughter in their own bubble.  The love that radiated from mother to her daughter, in the darkest time of her young life. 

My younger sister could not have put it more beautifully.
 When my ex husband drove me home from the hospital on Sunday all I could think was if I didn't push so hard for her to have dinner she would have chocked on her vomit and be dead, he looked over at me and said you are a hero I said no I am a mom. I only slept an hour and a half that night the next morning my sister drove me to the hospital where Victoria was in ICU. When the doctor was telling us what was going on and death, liver transplant were still on the table I couldnt hear anymore, Violet asked all the questions and made all the calls that needed to be made. Victoria was saying things to me in her fit of rage I have never heard from my children, I hate you, I will have your children taken away from you, you should have let me die etc. 
I am doing my best to keep things as normal as I can for the rest of my children but inside I feel empty, I cant focus, I want to hold her, feel her hair, tell her it will be OK. I wait everyday for the phone to ring so we can talk, I leave messages for her and when we do talk I keep it light and easy. 
For now we are here and we continue to move forward getting her the help she needs. It is a day by day process. I am seeking therapy for myself to help me cope.