Not that I need to clarify since Noah is gone and it’s a little late…the docs never declared Noah as being in a coma. I asked them on several occasions and they said he was definitely NOT in a coma. If people who see Noah’s photos on this blog were wondering why I always took pictures of him while he was sleeping, I didn’t. The last time his eyes were consciously open was probably October 24th, 2006. His eyes would open once in a while slightly after that, but he had no cycles of wake or sleep time.
I remember each morning at the hospital I would wake up and quickly run over to Noah’s crib to see if his eyes were open. I was praying so hard that one day he would just wake up from this sickening prison. I learned so much through my midnight research sessions and continue to make discoveries that I have no doubt are related to Noah’s health decline. After more blood work for the three of us, I’ll have no qualms about publishing this information in Noah’s book.
I have no idea why I’m writing any of this today. I guess in my grief process anger ebbs and flows. My life is an open wound of late because we move out of our home, the only one Noah ever graced with his sweet little presence, the day after tomorrow. I am excited to live in a new home and to finally be able to display pictures of Em and Noah (when you put your house on the market you have to ‘depersonalize’ it for resale).
His other home, the hospital, is no longer there either. That part is hard for me…I really longed to go to the hospital on Thanksgiving. I thought that if I went over to the new hospital maybe I could satisfy the longing. God had other plans. Em woke up puking. As weird as it sounds, I had a lot of peace knowing I wasn’t going to get the opportunity to go wander the halls of the hospital aimlessly looking for the only thing I really was seeking. Em threw up 4 times and was over it, bouncing off the walls the rest of the day, but it gave me the chance to snuggle with the kid I do have and nurture her little soul.
In grief counseling the emphasis remained, “How would we remember our child for the holidays?” My plan to go to the hospital had fallen through, our evening meal was going to be shared with some family and many new faces at someone else’s home, so I was not sure how Noah might fit into that setting. As we were sharing around the table things for which we were thankful I thanked the hostess for graciously opening her heart and home to our family two years in a row. This woman, my sister’s mother-in-love, is wonderful. Her smile lights up a room, her sincerity can be felt from miles away, and her genuine love for life and people is profound. One of her friends came up to me after dinner and said she did not want to upset me but was wondering if I would tell her everything about our little boy. I was grateful for the opportunity to share my heart, the Source of my strength and hope, and the story of a little boy that changed my perspective forever. He did work his way into our Thanksgiving…