I think I must feel a little like someone who has been wrongly convicted of a crime. The judge calls out 'guilty', the gavel finalizes the verdict and the person is sitting there thinking, 'this is not how this should have ended!' and is carted away to deal with life from that point forward.
Declan's death was not the verdict I was expecting. I have spent many an hour replaying the day of February 14th in my mind... wondering what in the hell happened?! How could this healthy baby just stop breathing? Why did his heart stop beating? How did he end up dying and how do we move forward?! I am still struggling with accepting that this is how 'this' ends. There are actually moments when I am reliving the 14th that I get so worked up that I can hardly breath. The funny thing is, I am able to think about the day and much like a movie, I can see the events playing out in front of me but it is not attached to any emotions. It is when my mind allows me to remember that it isn't a movie and that it really happened that I lose my breath and the pain is overwhelming. I wonder how Nate and I got through the day at Children's hospital anyway... the whole day, we did what we needed to do... we made tough decisions, discussed unthinkable topics with a multitude of different doctors and stayed strong for our kids... thinking of that day now, I see Declan's sweet little body with tubes all over and doctors pricking and sticking needles in him and I want someone else to be the decision maker, I want someone else to be the adult. I wish it hadn't have had to be me. However, I am thankful that in the moment God gave me the ability to step up to the plate and think about Declan and the kids before worrying about me. Now... I am hoping that He will help me accept the 'verdict' and be my guiding light as we figure out life from this point forward.