I'm so Lost...
My baby girl is going to die, and there is nothing I can do about it. All I get to do is pick the time. I go from agonizing pain to numb. The docs said that she will never grow from where she is at. Her body is small, and her brain just didn't grow, so it is smaller still. She will never be able to think, hear, see, breathe, eat....the list goes on and on. The only thing keeping her alive is modern technology.
So the question is...are we maintaining life...or death?
Why should I have to make this kind of choice in this life?
How is it possible to hurt so bad, and still be alive?
What do I tell my 2 year old when she wants to know where her baby sister is?
What do I do when I have cried every tear that my body has...and I am still crying?
How can I love someone so much, when I have seen them for less then a week?
I already miss her...
Her name is Anarazell Joy.
So the question is...are we maintaining life...or death?
Why should I have to make this kind of choice in this life?
How is it possible to hurt so bad, and still be alive?
What do I tell my 2 year old when she wants to know where her baby sister is?
What do I do when I have cried every tear that my body has...and I am still crying?
How can I love someone so much, when I have seen them for less then a week?
I already miss her...
Her name is Anarazell Joy.
posted by Original Blog-surfer | 12:50 AM
3 Comments:
Shit, this is pretty horrific stuff. I can only wish that your pain subsides and whatever it is you need gives you the strength to carry on.
Shit. Somethings just suck!
it's so sad, i'm really sorry, hope lord give yo enough strength to carry on. keep on writin' or anything yo think can help.
I'm sorry that you have been forced to enter into this, seemingly alone. I'm not eloquent enough to explain well that I weep with you. But, I hope this may comfort where my words would fail.
"DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me...
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleep as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die."
-John Donne
Peace to you and yours,
Nadia
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