Saturday, June 27, 2009


Today, I am so thankful for our friends, near and far away. We have so many people calling, offering, stopping by and lending a hand to be sure we are doing ok. We have received so much from others reaching their hands out to us. It is so great to know so many people care.

This evening, I was able to spend some time with Angie and Dave Stonner and their 2 kids, Maggie and Sam. Sara and Nathan also came over with Ian. It felt so great to let the kids play together and to just "hang out" with our kids. Almost how I always imagined it would be.
Sam- 18 months & Charlotte
Charlotte & Maggie - 3 years old
Playing in Charlotte's room
Outdoors after dinner. Even after the sun went down, it was still so hot. All of the kids had sweat pouring off of them.

Ian trying out the Clubhouse

Except for the part where I ran when the O2 sat monitor alarmed, or I had to tote Ryan's feeding bag and tubing on my back and maneuver around the oxygen tubing, place the spit rag on my arm just right and pratically bend over backwards just to shift Ryan's weight in my arms to get him situated so I can hold him for a few moments. Chris and I didn't even get to sit and eat with everyone. One of us desperately trying to keep him content while the other one ate.

Then, finally it was bed time. We layed Ryan down to sleep and took the kids outside. But even then, it didn't feel right. Now, if Ryan wasn't sick and he was back in his bed sleeping, I would have no problem with him not being outside with us. But because he will never play with the other kids is why my heart aches. I felt like there was a big part missing. I know I will probably always feel that way... this is a feeling that will not go away. It may even become stronger and more painful as the years go by. I hate that happy moments like these are tainted with the grief in my heart. I was really happy today, but am crying now because that happiness is not full. Will it ever be full again? It is almost as if I am always being held back or am holding back, I am not sure which. It isn't something I can control, it is just always there.

I know in time we will heal. But, what does it mean to heal from something like this? I know you never forget. But does the wound just fade and leave a scar? A wound this deep? I feel there is no amount of time that will allow me to live fully. The only thing I even imagine easing this pain is to dedicate my life to helping others. I know as a nurse, this is one way to do that. But, I have such an urge to do more. I am not sure what or how right now, but I do believe it will come to me.


1 comment:

Rita said...

After spending weeks in the hospital with Eli, I believe nurses can make a huge difference. We had a few that I will always remember and be thankful for; they brought the only joy we had during that time. You seem like a very caring person and I'm sure that comes across to any patients you come in contact are already making a difference even if you don't know it.

I wish I could do something to make things better for you, but all I can do is cry with you. Sending many hugs from Texas.