I re-organized Emily's keepsakes tonight into new boxes.
I have been dreading this... I knew it would be so special to reflect on Emily's life so far, but that at the same time it would be a slap in the face of everything we will never get to have with Ethan.
No artwork, no birthday/holiday cards, no Sunday School papers, no letters to or from Santa or the Tooth Fairy, no awards, certificates, or programs, no ticket stubs from baseball games, theme parks, plays... no handmade cards to Mama and Daddy saying, "I love you"...
I expected a flood of emotions.
What I didn't think about is how I would feel when I came across the mementos from Emily's heart procedures/surgery.
The hospital bracelets, the newspaper article about her world-famous heart surgeon, the Bravery Beads stuff, the get well cards...
In an instant, it was 2005 again, and I remembered the fear.
The fear of losing her.
She had her first procedure at three-and-a-half months old.
Five years later, we feared losing Ethan.
And the same procedure that his sister handled so well killed him, when he was almost three months old.
Actually, the
anesthesia for the procedure.
Five years ago, Emily also made it through another cardiac cath with balloon angioplasty at 10 months, and open-heart surgery at 11 months.
And her little brother didn't even make it through the anesthesia for the first one.Yes, his heart was worse than Emily's. But, after he died, their cardiologist told us you could take 10 other babies with hearts
just like Ethan's, and this wouldn't have happened---
that's how rare this is.
Why couldn't God protect Ethan like he protected Emily????Or rather, why
didn't he?
You see, one of the hardest things to accept is that God could have intervened and let Ethan stay here with us.
And he chose not to.
I don't believe for a second I am any less of a Christian because I have a hard time with this.
I am a grieving mother, pure and simple.
I don't know how to put it into words, but I need to try...
When I looked through her stuff, I thanked God for what he did for her--- and us. I can't even begin to explain how precious she is, and always has been, to us.
At the same time, I felt incredible, horrible agony that he did not do it for her little brother, too.
Yes, I know Heaven is the ultimate best for everyone. I know Ethan is living in complete joy and fulfillment.
But I am his Mama.
And I just want him here with me.