Friday, November 2, 2012

Another angel

Yesterday, one of Ellie's NICU friends passed away. The day before, her mom had posted about all the amazing progress that Erin was making. Just like that, a little life got snuffed out, much, much too soon. Her mom was one of the first people I met when Ellie was born. She was such an inspiration, and a testament to the dedication of  NICU parent, having been in the hospital for months, away from her other kids and family in their home town up north.

When I heard that Erin had been intubated, and was being rushed to Children's, my heart sank. When I saw that she passed away, I was absolutely devastated.

At Ellie's ENT appointment this week (where they determined she needs surgery on her ears in January), I saw a family that I recognized based only on the father's voice. They had been in the bed beside Ellie in the ICU, when their son was diagnosed with cancer. I wrote about them before, how inspiring it was to see parents put aside their own fear, their negative emotions, and just beam positivity at their child. The little boy was unrecognizable to me. He lost all his hair, he was puffy, he looked so tired being wheeled in his stroller.

This is something "normal" parents rarely experience; the loss of a friend's child. In the NICU, or in the ICU you make friends with parents whose children have rare conditions, brutal diseases, whose futures are unclear. In the past couple months two babies that were born around the same time as Ellie, kids I've seen for weeks upon weeks of shared hospital time, have passed away.  In the 18 months since Ellie was born, I know more children who have died than adults. It doesn't make sense. It isn't fair.

 I am thankful every single day that Ellie and Jakob are healthy. I am putting everything I can into hoping for a cure for Ellie's hunger, so that in the future, when she's mobile and food-seeking, it no longer looms as a life-threatening cloud hovering over her.

Sigh.

Rest in peace, sweet little Erin. You were such a fighter. I will always remember your little laugh.

2 comments:

  1. I'm holding you in my heart tonight. I know exactly this place, of seeing friends' children die. This world that most are not aware of, where death sits oh so close to life is painful and raw, and never, never becomes tolerable. xx

    ReplyDelete