Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Angel Eyes

Throughout this pregnancy, lots of kind folks have ensured me that everything will be ok with this pregnancy and this child.  It's hard to accept these words of encouragement especially since I heard the same things from some of the same people that my last pregnancy and our son would be ok.  It's not that I don't trust their sentiments or their intentions, but when I hear these well meaning sentiments, I can't help but ask in my head "HOW DO YOU KNOW?"  How does anyone know that everything will be ok?  How does anyone know how all of this will turn out.  I certainly hope everyone is right, but I cannot take anyone on their word that everything will be ok because no one is in control of this situation, not even John and I.  All we have is the hope and faith that we scraped back up after Trey died and the love that surrounds us.  Hope, faith, and love are real as long as you believe in them and have them in your heart and soul.

Over the last two weeks, I have had a lot of time to talk to my fellow Angel Mommies and find new support sites.  Through these interactions, I am able to uplift other mothers and also unload my fears and worries about this pregnancy.  These mothers know the struggle I face everyday, trying to keep my chin up regarding my son Trey and also juggling so many conflicting emotions surrounding this pregnancy.  We share our experiences and our feelings and eventually it leads to us telling our entire tragic saga.  We share pictures and journal entries.  We brag about the strength of our little ones and come to envision the beauty that is our angels in heaven. 

In these times, I find myself looking at the same picture of Trey that I consider my favorite.  It was taken April 1, 2009.  Trey had been in the NICU for nine days and we got the call at home that there was a long awaited bed for Trey at the local Children's Hospital where Trey would have the majority of his special care.  We were overjoyed to say the least.  As they prepared him for the ambulance ride to the Children's Hospital, he opened his eyes.  The nurse hurried me over to take a picture because Trey always turned camera shy when his eyes were open and he would shut them quickly.  I did not know then that that would be the last time I saw his eyes open.  The day had started off so encouraging with the trip to the Children's Hospital and our little boy looking into my eyes, you could not shut off my smile or stop my heart from beaming.  We were on our way with our son to a place where Trey's condition would be treatedmand his needs could and would fully be met.  Our son had the Cadillac plan of healthcare awaiting him, it was the first step to seeing our little boy healthy and thriving.  The events of that morning carried me through  the ride to hospital in the ambulance, the LONG day of testing and doctor's consulting together, and the even LONGER night before they would sit us down to weigh out the options.   Throughout our long day and night I stared at the last picture I took of him with his eyes open looking at his Mommy.  I saw hope, faith, strength, and love in those eyes and could stand strong knowing that everything was going to be ok.

Needless to say, when the doctors sat us down the next morning and over the next three days, their findings zapped the hope and faith right out of us.  Our son was slowly dying and had been since birth.  We learned that the previous hospital had not disclosed everything to us and led us to believe that Trey's health was stable, if not improving.  On April 4th, 2009, we said good-bye to our son and released him from the prison that was is health.

It wasn't until the past few weeks that I really revisited the picture, the story behind it, and what it means to me.   I still see hope, faith, strength, and love in those eyes and I always will.   The picture represents a time of the greatest joy for us in Trey's short life.  I can only imagine that Trey opening his eyes that last time was his gift to me that now serves as my inspiration.  I keep the photo with me now and it comforts my worries and fears as we travel through this next phase of our lives, continuing on to parenthood.  I am sure the worries and fears will always be there, but his angel eyes renew my hope and faith, remind me to be strong, and fill my heart with the love of a little boy, my personal guardian angel.

1 comment:

  1. After reading this, I can't stop crying. It's like a window into your heart. I don't know you and I have never experienced this type of pain but it's helpful to hear from you. I have a few very close friends who have experienced similar losses. It is so powerful to be able to get an understanding. You have a great way of writing. Thank you for being transparent and choosing to share your life. This will help so many people.