Fighting a sinus infection, writing thank you cards and not eating enough for dinner. All culprits of my lack of ability to sleep and my constant thoughts of Hope. Each time I attempt to fall asleep I think about her and begin feeling sad and get up before I start crying and make my sinus headache that much worse. I was feeling much better this afternoon, but being on my back in bed appears to be working against me tonight.
Writing cards is something I've always enjoyed. I deeply enjoy finding a handwritten note in the mail and I like to give that gift to others. I will say that having Hope, and needing a lot of help, brought my thank you card writing to extreme levels. Tonight as I sat trying to catch up on my list of cards to write, I found it difficult as I'd been missing Hope all day and was now thinking about her even more and the people that loved her and our family. Having her picture on each card only made it more difficult in some ways.
Today I sat and organized our calendar for the fall. I wrote down all the days Sadie would be at Preschool, the mornings we'd attend my women's group and all the other things we already had scheduled. In some ways it was exciting to see what was in store for Sadie this fall. In another way it was deeply painful to know that the freedom to plan ahead has come with a deep cost, losing Hope. My calendar from last year is almost comical. I planned nothing, I couldn't plan and I simply didn't often plan to do things in advance. Sadie didn't attend any structured or scheduled weekly activities and I rarely did either. It's a change, a positive one for Sadie, yet a difficult one for me.
Feeling so terribly ill yesterday was a good reminder of what Hope left behind. My head was pounding, my sinuses jammed with junk and my body ached. Although Hope couldn't communicate well, she showed that she felt like junk on many days too. I was thinking about her tonight as I considered shooting saline up my nostrils, a daily task with Hope. She was often stuffy from having her feeding tube and oxygen prongs in her nose at all times. I need to remember the bad times in order to remember how much better Hope's life is now. She finally has free nostrils and no one is trying to take her blood!
Sadie has a current fascination with breast feeding. She 'nurses' her dolls and talks about the fact that Hope used to nurse. I have to explain that although Hope had Mommy Milk, she took it in a unique way. I'm fairly sure this is not computing as we have the conversation often. She never saw Hope nurse, she never did. I'm not sure where this is all coming from, but it allows Sadie and I to talk about her sister and I always enjoy that. She told me today that sometimes Hope was whiney. She's right, she was pretty grumpy some days. I guess we forget those moments and choose to remember the smiles we caught with the camera.
Although we certainly have difficult moments of grief, we are doing well overall. We still have the random reminders from friends and strangers alike that we are not forgotten. I find rare moments that I'm able to almost forget that I've lost a child and live like a normal person. They're usually brief moments as Hope has shaped a great deal of who I am today. I can't be me without her having been in my life. On the really difficult days I remind myself that this world is not my home, it is temporary. I am reminded that I have an eternity in Heaven to hug Hope. Eternity, something my mind is still too finite to fathom, but I'm looking forward to it just the same.
Wednesday, 28 August 2013
Wednesday, 21 August 2013
3 Months In
August 21st marks 3 months without our sweet Hope. Although we feel like doing nothing, Shawn is still at work and Sadie and I still ventured out to the chiropractor. We have spent the majority of the day on the couch with the tv, computer and ipad for entertainment. When I feel like doing something, I've been cleaning. I used to worry so much about the house being disinfected to keep germs down. Somehow disinfecting the floors, vacuuming up dust and washing surfaces make me feel close to Hope. I still struggle to go into her room and often pause at her door before walking in. I don't often have a reason to go in there, but try to take the journey a few times a week. We leave the door open and Sadie will often play with Hope's books, climb in her crib and pull out all her stuffed animals. I don't want her to feel like it's a museum where she's not allowed to touch.
Each time today I go on facebook and see a post or picture of Hope, I well up with tears. Sadie will look over and ask me if I need a hug to feel happy again. She's used to seeing me cry and doesn't appear too fazed by it. She asked me today where people go pee after they die. She's more worried about the details of Hope's new life.
I find my biggest battle on the anniversaries is cooking. I try to plan ahead and get everything ready to make it easy, yet at the end of the day there's nothing in the oven and for the second day in a row, we'll be going out. Cooking is one of those things that just puts me over the edge when I'm not doing well, yet is something I usually enjoy.
It's helped to organize all of Hope's things into a special box. Soon I'll begin going through all her clothes as a good friend is going to make a quilt out of all her sleepers for me. A way to keep them around with a purpose. She has so many that bring back memories of specific days in the hospital and pictures taken of her in them. Having treasures from her life with us has become very important for us.
In the midst of the pain and the sorrow of losing Hope, I find myself encouraged. We have never been alone through this journey and we continue to be supported through our grief. We have been so blessed to have the community around us that we do. Thank you for loving on our family.
Each time today I go on facebook and see a post or picture of Hope, I well up with tears. Sadie will look over and ask me if I need a hug to feel happy again. She's used to seeing me cry and doesn't appear too fazed by it. She asked me today where people go pee after they die. She's more worried about the details of Hope's new life.
I find my biggest battle on the anniversaries is cooking. I try to plan ahead and get everything ready to make it easy, yet at the end of the day there's nothing in the oven and for the second day in a row, we'll be going out. Cooking is one of those things that just puts me over the edge when I'm not doing well, yet is something I usually enjoy.
It's helped to organize all of Hope's things into a special box. Soon I'll begin going through all her clothes as a good friend is going to make a quilt out of all her sleepers for me. A way to keep them around with a purpose. She has so many that bring back memories of specific days in the hospital and pictures taken of her in them. Having treasures from her life with us has become very important for us.
In the midst of the pain and the sorrow of losing Hope, I find myself encouraged. We have never been alone through this journey and we continue to be supported through our grief. We have been so blessed to have the community around us that we do. Thank you for loving on our family.
Saturday, 17 August 2013
Precious Baby Girls
This evening I got the exciting message, "she's here!" Today my sister delivered her 5th child and my 4th niece. She looks beautiful and is a healthy baby girl. I felt great, I was excited for my sister and thankful that she arrived safely. Driving home from a friend's house, minutes from my own house, I had to pull over to let an ambulance pass. I have always been irritated by those cars that move over slowly or can't seem to get out of the way fast enough. I have always thought, "what if the person inside is someone you know? Move over quickly!" I now instantly think of Hope and the lights flashing and sirens blaring as they waited for people to get out of the way, rushing her to the Stollery last May. It was in the ambulance that Hope crashed and began to go downhill so quickly. Every time an ambulance rushes past me, the tears quickly rush down my face. I can't help but think of her and wish that somehow that ambulance had gotten to the hospital faster and that they had been able to find a way to save her.
Tonight, celebrating this new precious life in our family, I mourn the loss of Hope's life. It's an odd feeling to be overjoyed and deeply grieved at the same time. How can I cry and grieve on such an exciting day? I feel guilty for thinking of myself when my new niece has just entered the world. Hope was 13 months old, but she still bore the qualities of a newborn. Babies will always remind me of Hope, not lifting her head securely, never speaking and not truly eating real food. She was always a newborn in my eyes.
I realized this week that although being away a great deal this summer was a welcomed distraction, it was also exhausting. I'm finally home for the rest of the summer and I feel completely wiped. Tonight, 6 days after returning to Calgary, I am finally doing our laundry and slowly putting things away. That may be normal for a lot of people, but I'm usually way too anal for that. I simply can't seem to get back into the groove and I'm hoping this next week will allow me to get back on track. I'm tired of feeling like I'm behind on a million things. I still have a huge stack of thank you cards waiting to be written. People that have loved on us in some way and never heard back from me!
This Wednesday will mark the 3 month anniversary since Hope's death. I drove past a florist this week and saw a sign that said, 'August 21st- Rose Day'. I have no idea what Rose Day is, yet I found it oddly comforting that this 21st came with something beautiful, roses. The 21st days are the most difficult. I read a book by another family that had lost a child and they spoke about the monthly anniversaries and how difficult they were for the first year especially. I dread knowing that I have another 9 to go and will also have to endure; Christmas, Easter, her 2nd Birthday and even silly holidays like Halloween.
I continue to believe that God's ways are greater than my own. I know that his plans are best and I trust in that. It does not soften the blow or lessen the pain of being without Hope though. Her room is still empty, there will always be constant reminders and I still refuse to wash the shirt I was wearing the night she died. Sadie still brings her up almost daily and will often play with an invisible friend she calls Hope. Every doll is now Hope and each stuffed animal is given her name as well. She is not forgotten in our home.
Tonight I praise God for new life, the healthy life of a precious baby girl. I also ask the Lord to give my baby girl the hug I'm not able to give her myself.
Tonight, celebrating this new precious life in our family, I mourn the loss of Hope's life. It's an odd feeling to be overjoyed and deeply grieved at the same time. How can I cry and grieve on such an exciting day? I feel guilty for thinking of myself when my new niece has just entered the world. Hope was 13 months old, but she still bore the qualities of a newborn. Babies will always remind me of Hope, not lifting her head securely, never speaking and not truly eating real food. She was always a newborn in my eyes.
I realized this week that although being away a great deal this summer was a welcomed distraction, it was also exhausting. I'm finally home for the rest of the summer and I feel completely wiped. Tonight, 6 days after returning to Calgary, I am finally doing our laundry and slowly putting things away. That may be normal for a lot of people, but I'm usually way too anal for that. I simply can't seem to get back into the groove and I'm hoping this next week will allow me to get back on track. I'm tired of feeling like I'm behind on a million things. I still have a huge stack of thank you cards waiting to be written. People that have loved on us in some way and never heard back from me!
This Wednesday will mark the 3 month anniversary since Hope's death. I drove past a florist this week and saw a sign that said, 'August 21st- Rose Day'. I have no idea what Rose Day is, yet I found it oddly comforting that this 21st came with something beautiful, roses. The 21st days are the most difficult. I read a book by another family that had lost a child and they spoke about the monthly anniversaries and how difficult they were for the first year especially. I dread knowing that I have another 9 to go and will also have to endure; Christmas, Easter, her 2nd Birthday and even silly holidays like Halloween.
I continue to believe that God's ways are greater than my own. I know that his plans are best and I trust in that. It does not soften the blow or lessen the pain of being without Hope though. Her room is still empty, there will always be constant reminders and I still refuse to wash the shirt I was wearing the night she died. Sadie still brings her up almost daily and will often play with an invisible friend she calls Hope. Every doll is now Hope and each stuffed animal is given her name as well. She is not forgotten in our home.
Tonight I praise God for new life, the healthy life of a precious baby girl. I also ask the Lord to give my baby girl the hug I'm not able to give her myself.
Saturday, 10 August 2013
One Empty Hand
It seemed fitting to start writing again today, one month after my last entry. I don't have a good reason for the absence. At first I didn't have the desire, then life was busy and we were at the cottage with no internet.
Lots has happened in only 4 weeks. Shawn and I have had the freedom to dream once again. In July, we went on a road trip with some friends and spent time in Tofino, Victoria and Vancouver. This used to be an annual tradition, but last year this trip was not an option for us. Shawn was elated to be back in the water surfing with his brother and seeing him there was a blessing for me, he was happy.
During our stay in Tofino, my mom called to let me know that my Nannie (her mom) was not doing well. On July 16th, my 97 year old Nannie went to be with Jesus, and meet Hope for the very first time. I was honestly jealous of a godly woman going to be with Jesus and feel no more pain. I look forward to that day and pray that I will have a legacy like my Nannie did. She loved Jesus entirely and it showed in her life. I like to picture Hope getting to know her and having her love on Hope like she did on me as a small child. Losing my Nannie was difficult. I had longed to come and see her, fearing she would not live for too much longer. Nannie died less than 2 weeks before I would have finally been able to see her after 2 years of not being able to. That was painful and I felt frustrated that God would take her now, yet I don't blame her for wanting to go.
Shawn and I debated about what to do. I desperately wanted to be at the funeral. I wanted to be with my mom as well. Sadly, I was not in a strong enough place emotionally. Shawn and I both agreed that being in a funeral home, next to a casket and in the face of death so quickly would likely be damaging to my grief journey and only make it more painful. I missed the funeral I swore I never would.
On July 25th, Sadie and I flew to Ontario for a vacation and some time with family. I was able to see my grandparents (my dad's parents) for the first time in 2 years. I especially cherished this time after losing Nannie. Then, on July 26th, we had a celebration of Hope's life. It was a night I had pictured in my mind a million times. I longed for the day that Hope would finally be stable enough to come to Ontario and meet the friends, family and strangers alike that had been praying for her. So many people that we cared about and longed to introduce our little miracle to. Flying to Ontario with only one little girl was not easy, one hand remained empty. This entire trip has been a mixture of beauty and pain as a result. I'm so happy to be able to come again, yet pained by the fact that it is her absence and not healing that brought us here.
On July 26th, people shared their hearts and their experience of walking alongside us in our journey with Hope. It was encouraging and a reminder that her legacy continues and is not over. One little girl, that never spoke a word, continues to impact this world. Nothing could make a mother more proud.
Shawn joined us in early August and we spent time at the cottage with my family. It was another place I had always wanted to bring Hope and it came with tears. I find most of my tears are shed on pillow cases and shower tiles. Sometimes I keep it together for Sadie, but often I would just rather grieve alone. I rarely fall asleep with dry eyes.
Tomorrow our time away comes to an end and we return to Calgary. Although it is always nice to be home, I always find it difficult to return. There's the first time I see her room again, the first time I step in and look through her drawers and her closet. There's the reality that one day I'll have to put it all away, but the fantasy that I can leave it like it is forever.
On Wednesday, I will be speaking to a group of women about our journey with Hope. I know that God has taught us a lot over the last year and a half and that we should share it. In that way I look forward to it. At the same time, whenever I sit down and work on what I should say, I feel overwhelmed. I would need a week with these women to truly express what I have learned about God. I am forever changed, never to be the same. How can you express that in only an hour? Would you pray for me as I prepare, that God would have me share only what is on His heart?
Thank you for continuing to care and for continuing to pray for our family. Even when we are silent. Although my words here have been few, I've finally found it easy to pray again. I miss Hope terribly, it feels more painful on certain days, but I continue to love the Lord and find my strength in him.
Lots has happened in only 4 weeks. Shawn and I have had the freedom to dream once again. In July, we went on a road trip with some friends and spent time in Tofino, Victoria and Vancouver. This used to be an annual tradition, but last year this trip was not an option for us. Shawn was elated to be back in the water surfing with his brother and seeing him there was a blessing for me, he was happy.
During our stay in Tofino, my mom called to let me know that my Nannie (her mom) was not doing well. On July 16th, my 97 year old Nannie went to be with Jesus, and meet Hope for the very first time. I was honestly jealous of a godly woman going to be with Jesus and feel no more pain. I look forward to that day and pray that I will have a legacy like my Nannie did. She loved Jesus entirely and it showed in her life. I like to picture Hope getting to know her and having her love on Hope like she did on me as a small child. Losing my Nannie was difficult. I had longed to come and see her, fearing she would not live for too much longer. Nannie died less than 2 weeks before I would have finally been able to see her after 2 years of not being able to. That was painful and I felt frustrated that God would take her now, yet I don't blame her for wanting to go.
Shawn and I debated about what to do. I desperately wanted to be at the funeral. I wanted to be with my mom as well. Sadly, I was not in a strong enough place emotionally. Shawn and I both agreed that being in a funeral home, next to a casket and in the face of death so quickly would likely be damaging to my grief journey and only make it more painful. I missed the funeral I swore I never would.
On July 25th, Sadie and I flew to Ontario for a vacation and some time with family. I was able to see my grandparents (my dad's parents) for the first time in 2 years. I especially cherished this time after losing Nannie. Then, on July 26th, we had a celebration of Hope's life. It was a night I had pictured in my mind a million times. I longed for the day that Hope would finally be stable enough to come to Ontario and meet the friends, family and strangers alike that had been praying for her. So many people that we cared about and longed to introduce our little miracle to. Flying to Ontario with only one little girl was not easy, one hand remained empty. This entire trip has been a mixture of beauty and pain as a result. I'm so happy to be able to come again, yet pained by the fact that it is her absence and not healing that brought us here.
On July 26th, people shared their hearts and their experience of walking alongside us in our journey with Hope. It was encouraging and a reminder that her legacy continues and is not over. One little girl, that never spoke a word, continues to impact this world. Nothing could make a mother more proud.
Shawn joined us in early August and we spent time at the cottage with my family. It was another place I had always wanted to bring Hope and it came with tears. I find most of my tears are shed on pillow cases and shower tiles. Sometimes I keep it together for Sadie, but often I would just rather grieve alone. I rarely fall asleep with dry eyes.
Tomorrow our time away comes to an end and we return to Calgary. Although it is always nice to be home, I always find it difficult to return. There's the first time I see her room again, the first time I step in and look through her drawers and her closet. There's the reality that one day I'll have to put it all away, but the fantasy that I can leave it like it is forever.
On Wednesday, I will be speaking to a group of women about our journey with Hope. I know that God has taught us a lot over the last year and a half and that we should share it. In that way I look forward to it. At the same time, whenever I sit down and work on what I should say, I feel overwhelmed. I would need a week with these women to truly express what I have learned about God. I am forever changed, never to be the same. How can you express that in only an hour? Would you pray for me as I prepare, that God would have me share only what is on His heart?
Thank you for continuing to care and for continuing to pray for our family. Even when we are silent. Although my words here have been few, I've finally found it easy to pray again. I miss Hope terribly, it feels more painful on certain days, but I continue to love the Lord and find my strength in him.
Wednesday, 10 July 2013
Changing Landscapes
Our journey of grief continues and the landscape changes daily. Some days I feel as though I'm coasting down hill and the wind feels amazing as it blows past my face. The next day I'm cruising along flat ground and I don't feel stressed, but have to work to feel joy. Then out of nowhere the terrain will change and the steep mountains arrive and I struggle with each step I take. A true journey. Ever changing and never boring.
Monday was a difficult day. I was coming down from a fun visit with two of my old friends from Ontario, Sadie's 3rd Birthday party and a whole lot of laughs. I went back to the hospital on Monday for the birthday party of a little girl that lived down the hall from Hope for much of our stay in Calgary. The hospital is difficult, but something I desire to conquer. I feel exhausted and overwhelmed there, but I felt like I was doing alright. Before leaving, Sadie and I went upstairs to the Cardiology ward to return some of the supplies we still had for Hope. The only visits we made to the clinic were during the time that we had Hope at home. It reminded me of the glorious days that I never realized were so precious and would be so few. They were testing the system and called a Code Blue while we were upstairs. It sent chills down my spine as the staff ran to answer the call and I knew that a similar team had been running to Hope in Edmonton on May 21st. It disturbs me to know that a place that was very much our home for almost a year, is now a place that lacks purpose in my everyday life. I was overcome with emotion.
This has finally brought me to the place that I needed to be. I have avoided grief counselling as we only have a certain amount of coverage and I feared that if I started before I was truly "broken" that I would run out and go broke trying to put myself back together again. I made my first appointment and will hopefully be able to work through the emotions under the surface that I have not begun to touch or process. It is also good timing as I saw our old cardiologist on Monday and he would like to meet with Shawn and I at the end of August to go through Hope's autopsy report with us. A meeting that will be difficult in our journey with grief.
As much as the last 48 hours have been an uphill climb, it is never without breaks. Out of nowhere will appear a place for me to rest and be reminded that we are not alone and are loved and cared for. Even today I had a special delivery to bring a smile to my face and remind me that an army walks alongside me. I am still in awe of the community that God has raised up around us and I am so thankful for that support.
I have not been able to shake the feeling of being rushed at all times. I am constantly asking Sadie to hurry up or do things quickly. I still feel an urge to get somewhere quickly. Hope is no longer here and I'm not in a rush to the hospital, but my mind still feels that I am. I want Sadie to experience the joy of playing, running errands and living life with a mom that can enjoy it. Would you please pray for me as I seek to find more patience, relaxation and joy in the small moments of life? Shawn refers to it as "fun mom" when my laid back personality breaks through the fog. I need "fun mom" to come back on a full time basis, well maybe part time so I'm not late for everything!
Sadie still talks about her sister constantly. She has asked if Jesus has wipes to clean up after Hope, as I wiped Sadie's bum. She told me that we only miss her because we loved her so much. She asked me if when we had a new baby, if the baby would be healthy. She even asked me how big people that die fit into the little box that Hope was in. No mother should have to explain to a 2 year old that coffins come in all sizes. Hope was dearly loved by Sadie and is still sharp in her mind. I am burdened by the truth that this will not always be the case and I seek to cherish the things she says about her now.
Today we received the books our friends made, 'Hope's Reach'. I have begun to read the stories that people sent in on how Hope impacted their lives. Shawn and I read many tonight as we laid in bed and were brought to tears. I look forward to the many hours that will go into finishing the book as we read along. We feel blessed to have the opportunity to read the stories and hear of her impact. We are also humbled. I was reminded tonight of how great our God is. A God that could use a tiny little girl to captivate the world. Much like the tiny baby Jesus that he used to bring life, and life to the fullest for us all. I still hope in my heart that the people touched by Hope's story will allow Jesus into their lives. I want to have a party in Heaven with all those that are there because of Hope's struggle and the way Jesus used her to show his love for our world.
I know that one day I'll be with Jesus and Hope in heaven. Until then, I live in a world that needs HOPE and I will do my best to help others find it. Sometimes climbing a mountain gives you a view of the world you've never seen before. It has truly opened my eyes and taken away the opportunity to be naive and believe that this is a beautiful place. True beauty is only found in Jesus and it is there that I choose to place my hope.
Monday was a difficult day. I was coming down from a fun visit with two of my old friends from Ontario, Sadie's 3rd Birthday party and a whole lot of laughs. I went back to the hospital on Monday for the birthday party of a little girl that lived down the hall from Hope for much of our stay in Calgary. The hospital is difficult, but something I desire to conquer. I feel exhausted and overwhelmed there, but I felt like I was doing alright. Before leaving, Sadie and I went upstairs to the Cardiology ward to return some of the supplies we still had for Hope. The only visits we made to the clinic were during the time that we had Hope at home. It reminded me of the glorious days that I never realized were so precious and would be so few. They were testing the system and called a Code Blue while we were upstairs. It sent chills down my spine as the staff ran to answer the call and I knew that a similar team had been running to Hope in Edmonton on May 21st. It disturbs me to know that a place that was very much our home for almost a year, is now a place that lacks purpose in my everyday life. I was overcome with emotion.
This has finally brought me to the place that I needed to be. I have avoided grief counselling as we only have a certain amount of coverage and I feared that if I started before I was truly "broken" that I would run out and go broke trying to put myself back together again. I made my first appointment and will hopefully be able to work through the emotions under the surface that I have not begun to touch or process. It is also good timing as I saw our old cardiologist on Monday and he would like to meet with Shawn and I at the end of August to go through Hope's autopsy report with us. A meeting that will be difficult in our journey with grief.
As much as the last 48 hours have been an uphill climb, it is never without breaks. Out of nowhere will appear a place for me to rest and be reminded that we are not alone and are loved and cared for. Even today I had a special delivery to bring a smile to my face and remind me that an army walks alongside me. I am still in awe of the community that God has raised up around us and I am so thankful for that support.
I have not been able to shake the feeling of being rushed at all times. I am constantly asking Sadie to hurry up or do things quickly. I still feel an urge to get somewhere quickly. Hope is no longer here and I'm not in a rush to the hospital, but my mind still feels that I am. I want Sadie to experience the joy of playing, running errands and living life with a mom that can enjoy it. Would you please pray for me as I seek to find more patience, relaxation and joy in the small moments of life? Shawn refers to it as "fun mom" when my laid back personality breaks through the fog. I need "fun mom" to come back on a full time basis, well maybe part time so I'm not late for everything!
Sadie still talks about her sister constantly. She has asked if Jesus has wipes to clean up after Hope, as I wiped Sadie's bum. She told me that we only miss her because we loved her so much. She asked me if when we had a new baby, if the baby would be healthy. She even asked me how big people that die fit into the little box that Hope was in. No mother should have to explain to a 2 year old that coffins come in all sizes. Hope was dearly loved by Sadie and is still sharp in her mind. I am burdened by the truth that this will not always be the case and I seek to cherish the things she says about her now.
Today we received the books our friends made, 'Hope's Reach'. I have begun to read the stories that people sent in on how Hope impacted their lives. Shawn and I read many tonight as we laid in bed and were brought to tears. I look forward to the many hours that will go into finishing the book as we read along. We feel blessed to have the opportunity to read the stories and hear of her impact. We are also humbled. I was reminded tonight of how great our God is. A God that could use a tiny little girl to captivate the world. Much like the tiny baby Jesus that he used to bring life, and life to the fullest for us all. I still hope in my heart that the people touched by Hope's story will allow Jesus into their lives. I want to have a party in Heaven with all those that are there because of Hope's struggle and the way Jesus used her to show his love for our world.
I know that one day I'll be with Jesus and Hope in heaven. Until then, I live in a world that needs HOPE and I will do my best to help others find it. Sometimes climbing a mountain gives you a view of the world you've never seen before. It has truly opened my eyes and taken away the opportunity to be naive and believe that this is a beautiful place. True beauty is only found in Jesus and it is there that I choose to place my hope.
Friday, 28 June 2013
Another Night Shift
I think I'll start calling my sleepless nights, the night shift. Even with the help of medication, sometimes my pain is too intense to quiet.
I'm sure the pain tonight comes from a few sources. My day started out well, taking Sadie to her beloved music class. She sang her heart out and had a blast as per usual. Sadie and I had a mommy and daughter date at McDonalds too.
After lunch we drove to the Children's Hospital to visit a friend and her daughter. On the drive there, I felt sad and talked with Sadie about how much I missed Hope. She informed me that I would be happy when I had a new baby. Always putting in a plug for the new sibling she wants so desperately. In the parking lot, I walked past license plates and vehicles that I had memorized as I used to pass by them each morning. Families that had also been at the hospital long term, ones that still had a reason to be there. As I walked into the unit I saw the nurse practitioner that had followed Hope on the purple team. She was an absolute gift and also the best one to draw blood from Hope's scalp. Seeing her brought on the teary eyes. I passed a few nurses that I had not seen and was able to hug, some that were excited to see Sadie again too.
Sadie and I visited with our friend and her daughter that continues to struggle for her life. We sat next to her twins and fed one of them as his brother slept. I've spent so much time in the hospital, it's almost a familiar comfortable place. Perhaps the fact that we'd spent the most recent part of our journey in the ICU and not on the ward made the difference. I was okay being there, in a hallway that Hope had spent the greatest portion of her life.
Sadie and I left after only 30 minutes. I know it's good for me to get back there and I do miss so many of the staff. I just wish I had a reason to go everyday still. The onset of this long weekend does not help. We lost Hope the day after a long weekend. I remember feeling like we were missing out on a long weekend because Hope was in the hospital. Now I wish I could spend this one there. I was so burnt out, I spent hours of that long weekend out with Sadie while Shawn cuddled Hope. Time he'll forever cherish and I'll continue to miss. I wish I had known that Tuesday morning that it was our last day. I would have fought to get on the plane with her. I would have stopped them from intubating her until Shawn was able to get there and hold her again. I wouldn't have put her down, not even to use the washroom. If I had known, I wouldn't have been able to look at her face like I did that day. I would have been crying too hard to see her beautiful eyes through my tears and her chin that stuck out so sweetly. Maybe ignorance is truly bliss.
Yesterday I went to donate blood for the first time. I'm not a fan of needles and I would not describe myself as strong. I can become light headed and exhausted quite easily. I brought a friend along for strength, but also to ensure one of us could drive home. As they poked my finger to test my blood before beginning, I thought of Hope. Each time they wiped her heel with alcohol she knew the poke was coming. As I waited for it myself I realized that waiting for the poke was much worse than the pain. She had it done so many times that she knew right away, even as a newborn.
As I sat in the chair, my blood pouring into the bag, I thought of the numerous times those bags of blood hung next to Hope. I looked around the room at complete strangers that had given their free time to come and donate blood. Many strangers, just like the ones around me, had given 20 minutes of their time and given us 13 months with Hope. Without the gift that each person made, we would have lost her many times over. I wish I could personally thank every donor whose blood was pumped into my child. I thanked one man on the way out, but could not properly articulate how I felt. It made me want to go into high schools and rally 17 year olds to start donating regularly. If everyone who was able did, there'd be no shortage.
A long weekend, a trip to the hospital and donating blood. The deadly combination that puts me back on the night shift once again. I ran my hands over the sleepers in her drawer tonight. Spent time looking at the brand new clothes, hanging in her closet that will never be worn by her. Stroked her crib that she spent too little time in. Moved pictures of her around in the house. Looked at medical supplies we had no purpose for. Folded laundry and once again longed for her clothes and blankets to be included.
No matter how deep the pain of losing Hope, I cannot stop remembering how deep God's love for me is. I read in a book tonight that God is not far from the brokenhearted, he is closer than ever as we need him more than we ever have before. I hate that Hope died, I hate that she suffered when she was alive. I hate that I will always be a mother that is missing one of her children. Yet, I cannot hate God and truly do not feel angry. Without the Lord, I would have missed out on so much more of Hope's life. He gave me the strength to get to the hospital. The strength to sit and do nothing for hours with a person that never spoke and often did not smile. God gave me a love for a child that I knew from the beginning could be taken from me. I don't question why God allowed Hope to be born broken, I can see the evidence all around me. Hope's life made an impact, people's hearts were turned to God. I don't understand why she had to die, maybe I won't until I see God face to face. Regardless, I choose to trust the God that has carried me this far and believe that he will continue to carry me until he carries me home to be with Hope. Without God, there is no hope for tomorrow.
I'm sure the pain tonight comes from a few sources. My day started out well, taking Sadie to her beloved music class. She sang her heart out and had a blast as per usual. Sadie and I had a mommy and daughter date at McDonalds too.
After lunch we drove to the Children's Hospital to visit a friend and her daughter. On the drive there, I felt sad and talked with Sadie about how much I missed Hope. She informed me that I would be happy when I had a new baby. Always putting in a plug for the new sibling she wants so desperately. In the parking lot, I walked past license plates and vehicles that I had memorized as I used to pass by them each morning. Families that had also been at the hospital long term, ones that still had a reason to be there. As I walked into the unit I saw the nurse practitioner that had followed Hope on the purple team. She was an absolute gift and also the best one to draw blood from Hope's scalp. Seeing her brought on the teary eyes. I passed a few nurses that I had not seen and was able to hug, some that were excited to see Sadie again too.
Sadie and I visited with our friend and her daughter that continues to struggle for her life. We sat next to her twins and fed one of them as his brother slept. I've spent so much time in the hospital, it's almost a familiar comfortable place. Perhaps the fact that we'd spent the most recent part of our journey in the ICU and not on the ward made the difference. I was okay being there, in a hallway that Hope had spent the greatest portion of her life.
Sadie and I left after only 30 minutes. I know it's good for me to get back there and I do miss so many of the staff. I just wish I had a reason to go everyday still. The onset of this long weekend does not help. We lost Hope the day after a long weekend. I remember feeling like we were missing out on a long weekend because Hope was in the hospital. Now I wish I could spend this one there. I was so burnt out, I spent hours of that long weekend out with Sadie while Shawn cuddled Hope. Time he'll forever cherish and I'll continue to miss. I wish I had known that Tuesday morning that it was our last day. I would have fought to get on the plane with her. I would have stopped them from intubating her until Shawn was able to get there and hold her again. I wouldn't have put her down, not even to use the washroom. If I had known, I wouldn't have been able to look at her face like I did that day. I would have been crying too hard to see her beautiful eyes through my tears and her chin that stuck out so sweetly. Maybe ignorance is truly bliss.
Yesterday I went to donate blood for the first time. I'm not a fan of needles and I would not describe myself as strong. I can become light headed and exhausted quite easily. I brought a friend along for strength, but also to ensure one of us could drive home. As they poked my finger to test my blood before beginning, I thought of Hope. Each time they wiped her heel with alcohol she knew the poke was coming. As I waited for it myself I realized that waiting for the poke was much worse than the pain. She had it done so many times that she knew right away, even as a newborn.
As I sat in the chair, my blood pouring into the bag, I thought of the numerous times those bags of blood hung next to Hope. I looked around the room at complete strangers that had given their free time to come and donate blood. Many strangers, just like the ones around me, had given 20 minutes of their time and given us 13 months with Hope. Without the gift that each person made, we would have lost her many times over. I wish I could personally thank every donor whose blood was pumped into my child. I thanked one man on the way out, but could not properly articulate how I felt. It made me want to go into high schools and rally 17 year olds to start donating regularly. If everyone who was able did, there'd be no shortage.
A long weekend, a trip to the hospital and donating blood. The deadly combination that puts me back on the night shift once again. I ran my hands over the sleepers in her drawer tonight. Spent time looking at the brand new clothes, hanging in her closet that will never be worn by her. Stroked her crib that she spent too little time in. Moved pictures of her around in the house. Looked at medical supplies we had no purpose for. Folded laundry and once again longed for her clothes and blankets to be included.
No matter how deep the pain of losing Hope, I cannot stop remembering how deep God's love for me is. I read in a book tonight that God is not far from the brokenhearted, he is closer than ever as we need him more than we ever have before. I hate that Hope died, I hate that she suffered when she was alive. I hate that I will always be a mother that is missing one of her children. Yet, I cannot hate God and truly do not feel angry. Without the Lord, I would have missed out on so much more of Hope's life. He gave me the strength to get to the hospital. The strength to sit and do nothing for hours with a person that never spoke and often did not smile. God gave me a love for a child that I knew from the beginning could be taken from me. I don't question why God allowed Hope to be born broken, I can see the evidence all around me. Hope's life made an impact, people's hearts were turned to God. I don't understand why she had to die, maybe I won't until I see God face to face. Regardless, I choose to trust the God that has carried me this far and believe that he will continue to carry me until he carries me home to be with Hope. Without God, there is no hope for tomorrow.
Tuesday, 25 June 2013
Love Continued
I continue to be amazed at the thoughtfulness of others. I was fairly certain that 5 weeks after losing Hope, most of the world would have forgotten. I was very wrong. Just yesterday an edible arrangement arrived from a friend, just to remind me that she was still praying and had not forgotten. I am always touched at the reminder that Hope continues to impact lives on this earth, even after she left it.
I still have odd feelings at times. I feel an urge to drive to the hospital to go see Hope or run up to her room to check on her in the crib. I will look up at a picture of her in our home and suddenly realize all over again that she's gone. It's almost like my brain forces me to forget that she's already in Heaven. Other days Shawn and I both feel like we've forgotten Hope's death completely. Either God has given us an immense peace, or we are still numb. We often discuss the fact that we feel like we're doing 'too' well and should be crying more. Don't get me wrong, I have my bad moments. Recently I called my mom at 2:30am, her time, to cry into the phone for 2 hours when I couldn't sleep and Shawn needed to get to work in the morning. Overall, we find we have moved back into a normal routine and can make it through most days without a severe breakdown. It's more common at the moment for me to well up with tears when I think of Hope, cherish her memory for a moment and move on with whatever I'm doing.
I'm planning to make a trip back to the hospital sometime soon. I haven't set a date for myself, but would like to go back and return some of the supplies we have in the next few weeks. I think I'll be okay. It helps that Hope was still alive when she left the Calgary hospital, I relate her death to the Edmonton hospital and would likely struggle more there. I was thrilled to hear this week that the Stollery Hospital finally received the $55 million dollar grant they had been seeking from the government. Their ICU is in deep need of expansion. Had this been done years earlier, Hope would have likely gone into the OR in January and could still be alive today. I pray this expansion saves the lives of more children when it's completed.
Our family was blessed to not be affected by the floods in Southern Alberta. Our home is up on a hill and remained dry. Shawn has been home from work for the last 3 work days because of evacuation orders to his downtown office. Sadie and I have enjoyed the time with Shawn and were thankful that he was home on the one month anniversary of Hope's death.
Each day without Hope is different. Sadie is still adjusting to the changes and is clearly thinking of Hope. On the weekend a friend asked another child where his sister was. Sadie quickly answered, "my sister is dead". It's never easy to think about Sadie not having a sister to visit or snuggle with any longer. She often longs for constant adult interaction and that can be draining, as I deal with my own desire to sit and do nothing at times.
Thank you to everyone that has continued to pray for our family as we grieve. Thank you for all of the practical help and love that you've given. We know that without your prayers and encouragement, we would not be doing so well. I have found it difficult to sit and pray alone since Hope's death. I continue to feel too emotionally overwhelmed when I try. I have tried to focus on praying with Sadie, reading her stories and teaching her about the Bible. It's a way that I can connect with God at a level that I'm ready for. It's a good habit to be in with Sadie anyway, and it will likely be a new routine in our family. One month of grief down, a lifetime to go.
I still have odd feelings at times. I feel an urge to drive to the hospital to go see Hope or run up to her room to check on her in the crib. I will look up at a picture of her in our home and suddenly realize all over again that she's gone. It's almost like my brain forces me to forget that she's already in Heaven. Other days Shawn and I both feel like we've forgotten Hope's death completely. Either God has given us an immense peace, or we are still numb. We often discuss the fact that we feel like we're doing 'too' well and should be crying more. Don't get me wrong, I have my bad moments. Recently I called my mom at 2:30am, her time, to cry into the phone for 2 hours when I couldn't sleep and Shawn needed to get to work in the morning. Overall, we find we have moved back into a normal routine and can make it through most days without a severe breakdown. It's more common at the moment for me to well up with tears when I think of Hope, cherish her memory for a moment and move on with whatever I'm doing.
I'm planning to make a trip back to the hospital sometime soon. I haven't set a date for myself, but would like to go back and return some of the supplies we have in the next few weeks. I think I'll be okay. It helps that Hope was still alive when she left the Calgary hospital, I relate her death to the Edmonton hospital and would likely struggle more there. I was thrilled to hear this week that the Stollery Hospital finally received the $55 million dollar grant they had been seeking from the government. Their ICU is in deep need of expansion. Had this been done years earlier, Hope would have likely gone into the OR in January and could still be alive today. I pray this expansion saves the lives of more children when it's completed.
Our family was blessed to not be affected by the floods in Southern Alberta. Our home is up on a hill and remained dry. Shawn has been home from work for the last 3 work days because of evacuation orders to his downtown office. Sadie and I have enjoyed the time with Shawn and were thankful that he was home on the one month anniversary of Hope's death.
Each day without Hope is different. Sadie is still adjusting to the changes and is clearly thinking of Hope. On the weekend a friend asked another child where his sister was. Sadie quickly answered, "my sister is dead". It's never easy to think about Sadie not having a sister to visit or snuggle with any longer. She often longs for constant adult interaction and that can be draining, as I deal with my own desire to sit and do nothing at times.
Thank you to everyone that has continued to pray for our family as we grieve. Thank you for all of the practical help and love that you've given. We know that without your prayers and encouragement, we would not be doing so well. I have found it difficult to sit and pray alone since Hope's death. I continue to feel too emotionally overwhelmed when I try. I have tried to focus on praying with Sadie, reading her stories and teaching her about the Bible. It's a way that I can connect with God at a level that I'm ready for. It's a good habit to be in with Sadie anyway, and it will likely be a new routine in our family. One month of grief down, a lifetime to go.
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