Burning with fever and too weak to stand, I begged my husband, Ryan, to come home and help with our baby. He promised he was on his way, but hours passed with no sign of him. My body ached, my fever spiked, and I could barely hold my phone.Lily, our one-year-old, sat nearby, playing with a stuffed rabbit. She didn’t understand something was wrong. I couldn’t take care of her. I couldn’t even sit up,
I called Ryan. “I need you. Please come home.” He promised he’d leave soon, just twenty minutes. But an hour later, still no sign. I texted him again. He said he was stuck in traffic, but we lived in a small town—there was no traffic.In desperation, I texted Mike, Ryan’s coworker. “Is Ryan still at work?”Mike’s reply came fast: “Yeah, he’s still here. Why?”My heart sank. He hadn’t left yet. I called Ryan. Voicemail. I needed help, so I called Mrs. Thompson, our neighbor. “I’m coming,” she said, no hesitation.Mrs. Thompson arrived just in time, taking me to the hospital. The doctor informed me I was dangerously close to septic shock from a severe kidney infection,