8 Months

Today marks eight months since Lynnea died, though my thoughts today have been on other moments.  Three years ago at some point during the first week in March (I don't remember the exact date), we learned that Lynnea would enter our lives.  Of course, we didn't know anything about her yet at the time -- we only knew that a baby was coming in about nine months, and that the baby would be a blessing in our lives.  And, every moment with her was a blessing.

Two years ago, on March 5, 2009, Lynnea coded.  I remember sitting in a rocking chair in the hallway in the PICU outside the door to Lynnea's room with Ashlyn sitting on my lap while Lynnea went into cardiac arrest, and Ashlyn proceeded to throw up all over me.  As a parent, I have never felt more helpless than I did in that moment: helpless as my baby fought for her life; helpless as my toddler puked all over me.

Last year, on March 5, Lynnea was still in the PICU after having heart surgery on Feb. 8.  She was still on the ventilator, still running fevers, still not doing well at all.  As hard as it was to sit there and watch her suffer that day, my heart was breaking for Riley's family because they had lost their son only four days earlier, and the PICU was not the same without him.  It also served as a harsh reminder that not all children get to go home from the PICU -- sometimes children die, and the reality hit me that, if it could happen to Riley, it could just as easily happen to Lynnea.

I am grateful that this year I did not spend March 5th sitting in the PICU watching my baby suffer.  Yes, I wish that she were still here with me.  Yes, I miss her in a way that words cannot even begin to describe.  Yes, the tears still fall often when I think about how quiet my house is without her here.  But there is also a tremendous amount of relief knowing that she is pain-free in heaven, and that my days of sitting by helplessly as I watch her suffer are over.