The thing about ‘making all this progress’ in not going back to work at school just yet, tackling the hospital (albeit slowly), is this.... why? Why work so hard to ‘get better’? Somehow I keep roping myself into thinking that if I just do this, or accomplish that, then Anna will be there at the end.
If she’s not, what’s the point?
Again we have to go back to faith, faith that somewhere down the road there will be something we can be Happy Enough about to enjoy being here on the planet. But faith is the very thing we don’t have much of. The very thing we would be stupid to put all our chips into again. “Fool me once....”
I want answers so badly. I want to pull my hair out, peel my skin off, implode, explode, grab at every person on the street, scream at anyone who will listen, go anywhere by any means if someone will just explain to me why we don’t get her?! Why do all those people get their children and we don’t? Why are we not able to ogle over the little spring dresses at Costco, cut out coupons for diapers, wait for each other to come home to hand her off so we can run an errand easily? Why don’t we get to take an obscene amount of pictures, listen to her soft breaths, watch her wriggle, revel in her look of surprise when she makes a new sound? Why doesn’t she get to fall asleep on her Daddy, ride his shoulders, giggle in delight when he does whatever makes her happy over and over again? Why don’t we get to experience what if feels like when your child’s face lights up the room just because you walked in?
There is not a moment of her life we would have taken for granted. This. Is. Unacceptable.