Thursday, November 15, 2012


It's one of my favorite photos of me and my girl.  
I'm not sure why but when I look at it I remember the exact feeling I had in that exact moment.  Sometimes when I say "I love you Mabel," as I tuck her in to bed at night, I secretly wish there was another word I could use to tell her how greatly and deeply and strongly I feel for her.  I know that she knows but there is just nothing that could ever do justice to that emotion that I feel for this girl.

For all of them, really.  But with Mabel it's a longing that is painful.  It's a burning inside of me that I have had since the very first moment I held her.  A knowing that my time with her should be executed wisely and precisely.  It's a fervent desire to care for her in the greatest of ways while not losing myself in her.  

Last week was weird for me.  There were moments when I kissed her that I felt panicked that some day there may be a last.  I smelled her feet, as I do several times a day and I thought to myself, "It surely can't be true that some day these toes will not be here to kiss anymore..."
I sit in disbelief and wonder how our mind can so intricately disguise reality with denial.  Most of the time it's a beautiful and welcomed gift.

In the dead of night sometimes I sit straight up in my bed.  I can't bare to go check on her for fear that she won't be breathing.  The idea of having to endure those next few moments, hours, weeks, months, years without her is too much to comprehend.  I tuck myself back into my covers and in denial, I sleep, praying that morning brings life and not the other.

Life's gift to us is breath. It's a beating heart.
Life's gift is welcomed every morning with a healthy cry and a mommy who exhales deeply, dancing into a room with excitement for a day that was gifted to us yet again. 

That's the thing about gifts.  They are given because it is our desire to give them.  The maker, the life-giver can surely decide when it's time to gift Himself, rather than us, with our girl.  He is God after all. So every single day that I get to hold her, dance with her, greet her, smile at her, smell her piggies, do her hair, listen to her laugh, cringe at her cry; I will be thankful.

I wish there was a more exuberant and meaningful way to explain the love that I have for her. I wish I could explain how I feel for this child that has changed everything about me.  But I can't.
I think it's evident; the look between us, the longing for one another.
Simply that says it all.


Unknown said...

I actually came across your blog while searching to see if "redheads bleed more easily." Your story is extremely touching and my heart and prayers go out to you and your family! You are an amazing writer, I can feel the emotion in what you write. It's as if every word is carefully placed to convey the exact emotion behind what you are feeling. You seem like a very strong woman who has been through so much. I just wanted to take a moment to let you know that my family will be sending up some special prayers for yours! God Bless you!

Katherine Kowalski said...

I always enjoy reading your blog, you have a gift with words and your gentle positivity always leaves me feeling touched and uplifted. I feel so much of what you write in this post.

My son, who has no name for his syndrome, has a rare genetic syndrome and seizure disorder. Over recent months it has hit me that he really may not be with us very long. We have changed our lives and our outlook so much (for the better) since having him, he has been such a gift, and I hear so much of what you say about really living and experiencing every moment with these precious children. They bring to our lives something higher than human love. I don't know what it is but it's truly amazing.