Perspective. Again.

I am at a loss for words this morning. Facebook greeted me with the news of the passing of a sweet little girl. This family has been to Hell and back. And now to Hell again.

Sweet baby E had never left the hospital, she was 18 months old. She struggled with many health issues surrounding her lungs mainly. Had recently been given a new way of life via a trach. She was a changed babe-more active and energetic than I had ever seen her. And yes, that means I've personally met her and her family. Several times. Her momma was someone that I spent a decent amount of time with when Aidan and I were in the hospital together. I've interacted with baby E. Such a joy. And now I'm broken just trying to process the fact that she's no longer here. Her mom will probably never want to step foot in that hospital again.

In my previous post, I mentioned that the last year of medical crisis with Aidan has taught me perspective. Once again I am reminded of perspective.

The quote, 'the things you take for granted, someone else is praying for,' comes to mind this morning. While I feel as though I don't necessarily take having all of my children for granted, I do understand that my friend could now view our medical circumstances as a dream for her. She would give anything to have her daughter here, fighting cancer, than to not have her here at all. And for that, I feel selfish. Selfish because I cry over the fact that my son has cancer-when I definitely know how different our story could be. I could be crying over the fact that Aidan HAD cancer, but didn't make it. And now, I have to watch a friend ache over her loss of a child who HAD medical issues.

What do I even say to her? What do I even do for her? All I can offer are my prayers and leave the rest of it up to our merciful God. His plan is better than ours, no matter the cost.

One Year Later

One year later is today. As the day has passed, I've found myself reliving that horrifying day. Aidan going limp in my arms, crying hysterically thinking my son was dying, the ambulance rides, and the moment they found something in his brain.

We had just gotten married a week and a half prior. And the kids' 2nd birthday was in 11 days. I remember thinking, 'what if this is the last birthday I have with Aidan?' The aching. The sadness. All of it still feels fresh to me.

But it's not fresh. That happened 1 year ago. My son is thriving, beating cancer, and taking it all in stride. What a hero.

Thank you God for the women you placed in my life over the last year. Thank you for being ever present in my marriage during the difficult times, and in my relationships with my children during the difficult times, too. Thank you for everything. If I had to sum up the last year in one word, it would be:

Perspective.