a year ago, i was awake. all night. holding and swaying, singing and praying. exhausted and frightened i held a little. all night. last night i turned on the same playlist that i listened to then. beautiful peaceful music played. holding and swaying. singing and praying. exhausted and thankful i held a little. she molded into the crook of my elbow because that's where she belongs. her little eyes fluttered. her body relaxed, her breathing became rhythmic.
a year ago today, multiple doctors and nurses rushed in a hospital room. they resuscitated a tiny little girl, breathing for her with an ambu, and pumping her chest with their hands to keep her heart going, and blood flowing through her little body. they put a tube down her throat to breathe for her. and it stayed there for a long time. her mama sat and tried to think of words to tell a three year old about her sister dying. there were tears. there were doctors who seemed so heartless. there was the constant rushing in of nurses and respiratory therapist to use the ambu again. there was non-stop beeping. there were lines and cords, plugs and wires.
and somewhere, although it didn't feel like it at the time, there was some small whisper of hope. of future, life, and laughter. of smiles some day, and milestones to meet. of a sister who loves fiercely, a papa who swoons, and a mama who can't get enough.
|the ambu was always close by, and got used quite often.|
it is amazing the difference a year can make in the life of a little. we are thankful beyond words that we have a sweet little who is still here with us. smiling. loving her sister. and smitten with her mama and papa.
|more sitting practice.|
|wearing the pirate hat her sister made her (i have no idea why it's a pirate hat).|
|playing with her sister.|
'every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.' james 1:17
shilo. gift from God. one year later.