My Fears

Somewhere along this journey with Hailey, I promised I would hide nothing. I fought it, much like Hailey fought all of the intrusions that come with life in the hospital. Any pretenses we have as humans of covering ourselves up, whether with clothes or accomplishments, are quickly stripped away in a hospital when life and death are on the line. Hailey spent most of her days clad in not much more than a diaper, and was uncovered and poked and prodded at will, but she maintained her spirit and her loving nature and I cherished her for it.

Toward the middle of her journey, when it seemed more likely than not that we were headed down a darker path than we had hoped, Hailey's nurse practitioner encouraged me to let my friends come visit. She knew I wouldn't leave Hailey, so she probably correctly figured this was the only way I was going to have any socialization. But I didn't want to have my friends visit --- I was a mess, crying all of the time and staring off into space and begging God not to make my daughter bear the weight of my sins. I was embarrassed and didn't want anyone to see me like that. And I wanted to protect them from such a bleak existence. My own husband could probably count on one hand the number of times he'd ever seen me cry. I wasn't that girl.

It sounds dumb, but probably one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life was to let my friends visit. To let them see me at worst. My most vulnerable. When my tears mixed with the snot running down my face as I begged and pleaded for my daughter's life. I might as well have been as naked as my daughter was. But these were my friends. Why was it so hard to let them see me like this? I don't know. Pride, maybe? I'm used to being the one to rush in to help others. It was a truly humbling experience to be on the receiving end of so much charity...most of which I can never repay.

I am still embarrassed when I cry in front of others. Not so much my friends, but I even cry in front of strangers now. Just like last week when I cried while donating the last of my breastmilk or when I shopped for Mom-bod clothes, yesterday I cried to the seamstress when she fitted me for the bridesmaid dress I will wear at my brother's wedding later this month. (He is marrying the most amazing woman!). I find that I cry more now than when I first lost Hailey...the memories of her suffering have faded a bit, and in their place, I am smacked in the face with the realization of all that we have lost. I live in fear of becoming the walking wounded...of being defined by the pain of losing a child.

But I promised myself something. I promised I would be kind to myself. I think the only way to survive this kind of immense and overwhelming grief is to set it free. I do that by writing in this blog. By crying when I need to and trying not to feel ashamed, no matter who I cry in front of or where. By being humble enough to take comfort from whoever offers it...like today, in the hug of a loving neighbor who let me cry on her shoulder. Or by donning a bracelet a long-lost middle school friend gave me at Hailey's wake because it had helped her survive some tough times.

When did we become so bundled up in our clothes and our accomplishments and our THINGS, that it became scary to feel and to need and to let others in? Hailey is showing me how to live genuinely and without pretense. And as much suffering as there is in my life right now...and there is an awful lot...all of you reading this have stepped forward and stepped up in any way you know how. So there is also more love in my life right now than there ever has been before. And for that, I can be thankful.