Silence

Over the past two weeks our Ashley Kate has been unusually silent. I mean, she doesn't speak and that's not news to anyone, but she hasn't made a sound(other than screaming on the days she was in a lot of pain). She isn't humming, or babbling, or laughing, or anything. Usually when she plays she has something to "say". You can always hear her "talking". The silence has been especially hard on me. I miss her. I miss the "her" that she was before we came here. The little girl who sparkled with joy and mischief. The one who I could sit and "listen" to all day long as she played. She's not the same. The silence in our room has been so very loud. I wonder if she'll still be the same after this experience or if it has changed her forever.

My mom and my sister noticed right away how different she is. Of course its obvious that she doesn't feel well and that she is very, very weak, but they couldn't find Ash either. She's just not here. She doesn't interact or even acknowledge us. I often wonder if she has just learned to distance herself as she copes with the pain that comes from within her? I can't help but be frightened our little one's personality has slipped away. I pray it isn't gone. I want her to come back to us.

I think its hard to understand just what life is like here for Ash and I unless you come and see it for yourself. Its crazy. The two of us are basically "locked" in a little tiny room for 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. The doing nothing becomes exhausting. We sit, and sit and sit. Unless she has a biopsy scheduled during the week, then we don't even venture out of our room. If I hadn't become accustomed to the "nothingness" it would probably make me crazy. After two days of it, my mom is exhausted and all I can do is giggle about it. The same thing always happens to Dave when he comes to visit. If your used to activity, or having something to do all of the time, then coming to see us in Omaha will do nothing for you. There's not much happening in our piece of the world.

As I listen to the activity of our life at home over the phone each night I feel as though once again we are separated by entire worlds. Things are so different for me right now. My worlds are separate. I have the world of Ash, here in this hospital, that contains nothing but labs, tests, biopsys, rounds, and meds. Then there is our real world, the one at home, that includes Blake and Allie's activities, Dave's office, the busy weekends, the coming and goings of the kids and the endless listening to their chatter(I love this part) that reveals all that is happening in their worlds. I feel as though I am two different people. Dave and I seldom have more than 5 minute conversations and they mostly consist of going over the lists of what he needs to have done for the next day. There is no quality time. There is no real conversation. There is very little anything other than the relay of medical information from me to him and the relay of scheduling from him to me. It is a crazy, crazy life. Every now and then he calls late into the night to let me know how much he misses us and the sound of his voice during those calls cause me to cry myself to sleep because of the genuine lonliness I hear from him.

The weekend visit from my mom and sister was the best thing that could have happened for me at this time. The lonliness and the separation Ash and I feel had really begun to take its toll on me. To see the faces of those who love us, to sit and talk, to run to the store together, to watch them try to pull some sign of our old Ashley out of this shell she has retreated inside, to just know they were here in our room to do nothing more than tell us they loved us, healed so much of my breaking heart. I will forever be grateful to them for this. I needed it so very much.

I miss Dave and the kids so much more than I can express in this journal. Ashley needs them so much. I know if anyone could pull her out of this "silence" she has slipped into it would be them. They could do it. I think she's just tired of it being her and mommy. She needs them too.

Tomorrow morning my family is leaving to head home. Then Ash and I will be alone once again. Thankfully this weekend was filled with laughter and company. The kind of company that can only come from those who truly understand how very difficult this time away from Dave, Blake and Allison is for us. I will cherish the memory of the time spent together and try and make it last until the day that Dave and the kids walk through the door of this room or until Ash and I are allowed to walk out of it.