Can't let this one go

Play song, "Gravity" with this post

Just to warn first off, this post is probably better fit for my private blog, but strangely, I have this strange need for as many people who are willing to read, to know this. And I know I've gained a few more followers after the nightmare of this past week. But I think it's important to write out what this week did to me, even if it's for everyone to see, because I don't think I'll be able to get passed it, or let it go if I don't.

But, in all fairness, I did warn you.

I have saved things from the hospital before. Stuff from the NICU, like her name tag, the tub she had her first real bath in, her baby bracelet, both the bracelets Steve and I wore to identify ourselves as her parents. I saved things from her first surgery, including her leads, her mask that one of the OR nurses decorated so cute with her name and little flowers, her cute little hospital socks and many other things (I don't recall all of them). I did not save as much as we began raising the tally in our surgery counts, but still saved some things. It started with one big box, then grew to two, and when it started spilling into three, I thought it was time to stop. What takes up the majority of the space by far is her casts. I did not save all of them because there were way too many. Just her first set of plaster to correct those cute crooked feet of hers. And then one of the first post-operative ones. And then a few of the cutely decorated ones (we did have fun with that, you can see on this post). I did not save her spica (3/4 body cast after her hip surgery), because for one- it was HUGE (15 lbs. no joke!), but it also smelled like death (sadly, also no joke), and I may regret that one day, but really, where would we put it?

But I could not bare to part with things from this hospital stay. Like I needed to hold on to every piece of it to remind me how close we came. It really pains me to even think this, but like I said, I have to. I don't think there's a lot that realize what a miracle it is that Emarie made it through this. Had she not been vomiting, I don't know that there would have been a concern to take her to the hospital; and 3:30 am is when her oxygen saturations dropped as low as the 30's. All of us sleeping at home, don't know that we would have known she was struggling that bad to get precious air into her lungs.

Don't think I'll ever throw this one away. A reminder of the 6 scariest days Emarie has ever spent in the hospital

Can't even bring myself to remove this from my wrist. And don't think I will be able to for awhile, every time I look down, it is a reminder of how lucky I was to bring my girl home


But I became a different person after that night. I don't think I've experienced trauma like that since the day my sister died; and I also link the two because of how my mind coped with both of them. I should have fallen apart the moment they told me my three year old would have to be taken to the PICU because she was not breathing well enough at all (her sats were in the 40's even on a mask with 5 liters of oxygen). I also should have fallen apart when they had to place a C-Pap on her to breathe for her. But I didn't, I held it together. I was numb.


It's just like after the accident and I forgot everything about it. Forgot it for years even. Until a dream one night almost 3 years later made me recall every detail. The worst being the sounds, I can't stand hearing those. I don't mind the way my mind copes, but maybe it's not a good thing. I do think I was too young to have witnessed that and comprehend everything of that day, and maybe that's why my mind allowed me to forget. But, then why do I have to remember everything now, over 16 years later? And back to today, why did I have to fall apart over everything from this past week today? At work? In front of those, who not all of whom understand or even seem to care? Most do though, I do have to say that, but even with the out poor of so many caring, why is it that one or two even matter? But they do.

This experience has made me question a lot of things. Biggest of them being: whether or not I will continue working after this school year. And whether it might be the best thing to pull Emarie out of school, and ultimately away from other children until after she has the surgery that will inevitably keep her alive. This one pains me to think about, because she loves school, I have even had a blog post in the works for sometime all about it. Just haven't wanted to share yet because it's hard to think about when she misses so much. But she has real friends, really something that I've wanted for my daughter since she was born. Not to mention she loves her babysitter, and we love her too, and the whole family loves Emarie (I'm sure you've gathered that much if you follow this blog). But I have to think about what's best for the health of my daughter. And sure it's going to be hard for us too- bouncing her around to whoever is available to watch her, the inconsistency, the stress of not knowing who will have her the night before... but we'll manage, because it's for her.

I would like to relay a comment I left on one of my Ch18 mom's shared link for my last blog post. I wanted to put it on here, because I have to admit that I'm not always like this. That most of the time I struggle with the faith end in my life. Not that I don't believe, it's not that. It's because sometimes it's easier to be mad, and question, and scream to the heavens to please don't let her suffer anymore. Hard to admit, but I did all of that in the past week. But, you should know that it's not always like that for me. And a lot of you helped with that, so here's what I said:

Oh, and you should know, that this particular fellow Ch18 mom had been asking for prayers on our daughter's behalf (like many were, really was amazing and humbling to see), and posting the links for people to send us messages through the hospital. So again, I thank all of you.

Ok, now here it is:

Thanks everyone!! You have been an amazing uplift through this whole ordeal!! I look back on it now and realize how lucky we were that our girl even made it through alive. Prayer is powerful, people who have faith are powerful, and unconditional love is powerful. You showed me all, thank you, thank you! ♥


I have always known what a true miracle my Emarie's life really is, but I think someone must think I need to be reminded of that a lot. So maybe now if I write it out, they'll know that I do know it. I know that every second I am with her, I am with a true angel. And now I am screaming that.