I have been avoiding my post tonight. I am suffering from a broken heart. I don't know how they all do it. How do they survive leaving this place without their babies? They must have a strength I do not have. I would never leave. I think I would stay in the room and hold on to my Ashley and never let go. It is so painful to know that my sweet friend will not be holding her son tonight. What will she do? How will she sleep knowing he is no longer with her? I hugged her tight and told her they were loved. I told her how strong she was and she whispered that "she was trying." All I could do was say "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She whispered to me that she "wished my daughter well." As I turned from their room back towards mine I had an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness. If their sweet baby boy could not do this then how will my baby girl? How will she ever overcome and survive? My heart has been broken time and time again in this place. It is not a happy place to live.
I don't want to feel hopeless. I want to feel confident that my Ashley will make it home. I want to feel sure that she will grow up with her brother and sister. I want to believe that He has more in store for her life. At the same time I feel such guilt over wanting and praying and pleading for my baby to survive when so many of my friends babies have not. The emotions are so difficult to sort through.
I am listening to her "squeaks" and "coos" behind me as she finally sleeps. As I sit here to type I find myself thanking Him for today. One more day. He gave me another day with her. A day to love her. A day to hold her. A day to kiss her fingers and toes. A day to pray for her. A day to marvel over her. Every day, every moment, every experience is so very precious. Each time we lose another child here in the PICU I find myself hugging her tighter, holding her longer, and hoping for my time with this child to never end. My friend was right when she told me that our transplant has given us the "gift of time". My Ashley would be gone tonight if we had not received her transplant.
Tonight I will ask you to pray for our friends in the upcoming days, and to pray for our Ashley as she continues to fight, and to hold tightly on to your children. Love them deeper. Kiss them more often. Listen to their voices as they ramble on and on. Linger a little longer in their doorways before you turn off their lights. Tell them of Jesus. Show them the way. Live life with them each day as if there would be no tomorrow. How long would you hold them if you knew it would be your last night with them? If I could I would place a thousand secret kisses on my Blake and Allie's foreheads tonight as they sleep. Please, please know that your children are a gift from the Father and you are more than blessed to have them. Just I am blessed to still have mine. Thank you for listening to the ramblings of my broken heart. Goodnight and may God grant us all hope for their futures. Love, Trish