Tuesday, September 29, 2009

The Twenty-Eighth

Emma Grace, sick as can be
I don't talk about this subject because, quite honestly, it's far too painful. I avoid the subject by all means, I've considered blogging about it before, but quickly talked my way out of it. However, what I experienced last night made it clear that yes, it is time to talk. 

Yesterday was September 28th. I waited in the Urgent Care waiting room holding my little Emma close to my heart. She cried out to me, there was nothing I could do. She was sick, sick as can be. All I could do was hold her and sing in her ear. Finally, we were called to a room. I sat there, saw the doctor and watched as they brought a breathing treatment, a steroid shot, ibuprofen and finally oxygen. It became perfectly clear that this was serious. Oxygen levels were low, breathing was rapid, an ambulance was called.

We drove fast, sirens and all. Emma sat their in her car seat, strapped to a stretcher, iv in her chunky little hand and oxygen mask on her face. All I could do was sit there and stare at her blue eyes. I started dreaming of her being well and her blue eyes becoming bright again.

I sat in the ER room holding Emma as close as can be. Rocking her back and forth while singing You Are My Sunshine. "You are in the asthma room," a nurse told me. I sat there amongst children receiving breathing treatments and all I could do was pray against asthma for my little girl. 

Sixteen years ago, on September 28th, my sister Lisa passed away from complications to asthma. I was young, I truly didn't understand the measure of this loss until I reached adulthood. Even now, sixteen years later, it affects me. A part of me changed on that dark day, and I won't fully comprehend it until I'm on the other side of glory, standing face-to-face with my Creator. All I know now is that day changed me.

What I do know is if my sister was still alive, she would be the best aunt. She would be sweet and she would adore her nephew and niece. She would have sat there with me, holding Emma, praying against asthma. I know she would kiss the top of Emma's fuzzy little head just as much as I do. I know she would squeeze Emma's baby rolls and love every moment. I know she would melt at the sight of Emma's big blue eyes just like I do. I know this, I truly know this. 

I don't know why my sister passed away. What I do know is I was able to take my baby girl home last night, I laid her in her crib, turned on her mobile and the music never sounded so sweet.


3 SISTERS said...

Oh Melissa, my heart goes out to you. How scary. It is the worst feeling seeing your children so helpless and feeling so helpless. I am so glad Emma is doing better. I will pray for you both.

Anonymous said...

I had no idea you had such a horrific loss in your life and how doubly scary Emma's ordeal must have been for you (on the anniversary of your sister's death of all days too). My heart and prayers go out to you and Emma. Sherry

Livin' the Yeh Life! said...

Wow, Melissa... I'm so sorry you had to go through that! That is so scary! Praising God with you that she is better! Thanks for sharing.

Marlo =) said...

Melissa, Thank you for sharing your heart! We were there with Sydney. Rushing in our car in the middle of the night. She was crying, scared, struggling to breath. Scary! We, too, came home the next morning and slept finally. That was the only time we've had to make a trip to Children's for that. Now, when we notice either of the kids getting that cough, we plug in the humidifier. The only trips we've made are to the bathroom to sit in the steam of the shower. I'm praying that you never have to make any trips again!!!!

Much love,
Marlo =)

Michelle Liebgott-Osinga said...

What a difficult experience. I recently had to go to the emergency with my baby, so I know what you are talking about with how difficult to watch them while they are experiencing something so scary and you are powerless to do anything about it.
Concerning your sister, I think that it is definately good to talk even though it is difficult. It is only through talking that we heal.

Christine said...

You poor thing. That would have been such an awful experience. I know the NICU all too well and I know how hard it is worrying about the well-being of your little one. I'm so sorry to hear about your sister. She would have been an amazing Aunt to your kids. Take care.