This day marks an end for me. Today I experienced the first strong moment of wishing Hope had never been born. I then looked at pictures of her and my heart instantly changed as the love I have for her flooded in. The feeling was there, it was brief, but it came. Today was also the first time in this journey that I have been truly angry with God. Throughout my pregnancy and Hope's first 11 months of life, I have trusted him as completely as I was able to. Tonight I felt extreme anger and even rage. I can't help but feel defeated. Today is also the first time I have truly wondered, why me? I know the answers to these questions. I know the promises of God and I know all the fluffy things that people will long to type after reading this. I also know that in this moment, these are my feelings. Beautiful or ugly, they are real.
Hope has begun vomiting again. I have asked the resident to put her on pure breast milk for the rest of the night until the doctors return in the morning. I have no idea what happens next. Likely TPN and months of GI doctors that have no idea what to do and secretly believe it's Cardiology's problem. Months of Cardiologists that believe her heart is the only decent part of her body. Nutritionists that come up with some new great idea to feed her that works for a while, but then fails.
How many months of false hope, crushed dreams and a split family will we endure? I don't need you to feel sorry for me, I feel sorry enough for myself tonight. I know this post is ugly and I will be ashamed of the emotions I feel in this moment. At the same time, I want to remember this dark and ugly place I find myself in right now and I hope it reminds me of why I never want to be here again.
Tomorrow I don't want to go to the hospital. I want to see Hope, but I don't want to go to the hospital. Are we fighting for Hope's life so she can live an institutionalized life in the hospital forever? This is me, at my bottom and completely over this all. I can't pray. When I think about starting I can't bring myself to do it. If I do start talking, only anger comes out. I feel like satan has truly won with me tonight. Is this what he's wanted all along? To convince me that hope is not worth holding on to and that little Hope is not going to ever be home?
What is a mother supposed to do? Without some kind of hope, it's not possible to get out of bed in the midst of this Hell. Yet, every ounce of hope I've held onto has brought so much pain, heart break and tears. If you give up as a mother, who fights for your child, what reason do they have to fight? If I crawl into a ball and stop trying at life in general, who loves on Sadie and Shawn in my place? I feel like my only option is strength, my only hope is Christ and my only joy will be in eternity.
Why? I can't answer why, but I sure hope this Hell is not going to carry on much longer. I want my daughters under one roof. Not in 2014, not by Christmas, or the summer...today. My patience is completely gone and I'm done. NOW would be a good time to stop the constant setbacks, stolen dreams and the unexplained impossible task of trying to feed Hope.
Even in anger, right now I know I need the Lord more than ever.