Leaving the hospital was the first of so many hard times, that looking back I have no idea how I ever had the strength to go through. Our family of 7 was now a family of 6. I was going home with 4 kids, not 5. I now had 3 beautiful girls, not 4. I have come to hate the numbers 6, 4, and 3. They feel unnatural to me. I hate that we can now feed the family with half a dozen of whatever instead of having to buy the full dozen. I hate downgrading. I first realized this as we were leaving the lobby of the hospital floor we were on. As a mother, I am constantly counting noses. Instinctively I am always counting one..two..three..four..five.. over and over to make sure we're all there. As we were filing into the elevator to leave I did it again. One..two..three..four........no five. No five.... The realization that I was walking away from my daughter was overwhelming. I knew I couldn't stay, what else could I do? But I felt as if I had turned my back on my daughter. As we drove, it was all I could do. Count... One.. two.. three.. four...no five... One.. two.. three.. four.....no five...no five...no five...
It was getting late in the day, and we were exhausted. Neither John or I hadn't slept in over 24 hours. We knew it wasn't safe to try to make the 4 hour drive home. We drove mindlessly for awhile. When we decided to get a room, we really didn't care where we would stay. We just wanted a bed. We decided we would stay in the first place we came to. We first came to a Marriott, but they didn't have a adjoining rooms that we needed in order for everyone to have a bed. Next door was a Hampton, and they had the rooms available. As John was checking in, the desk clerk asked what brought us to S.L. He replied simply that we had to take our daughter to Primary Children's, she then asked how she was doing. For the first time, John had to tell her that our daughter didn't make it. This sweet clerk, I'm sure was flustered and somewhat embarrassed. She refused to take payment for the rooms. I hadn't eaten since the morning I first took Brittany to the Dr, and I still didn't want to eat, but my kids were hungry. As we were preparing to leave to find some dinner, the front desk clerk knocked on our door with extra blankets, pillows and a garbage bag full of snack food. My kids felt like it was Christmas. I felt like it was heaven sent. We still left for some real dinner, but having "fun" food was a much needed distraction. The next morning we were a little late getting down to the lobby for breakfast. The same desk clerk was still on duty, and had the maids pull all the food out again that they had just cleaned up, so we could eat and not have to worry about going out. From that point on there were hundreds of small and large acts of sweet service on our behalf. We had Christmas lights put on our house by the time we got home that night, countless meals, grocery shopping, gifts, mementos, letters, flowers, cards, small notes from kids at my school, prayers, fundraisers.. it goes on and on... We had small kids going door to door collecting money for us, other kids cleaning our piggy banks, giving up Christmas presents, selling items, so many things done for us. And many more that I'm sure we will never know about.
It was getting late in the day, and we were exhausted. Neither John or I hadn't slept in over 24 hours. We knew it wasn't safe to try to make the 4 hour drive home. We drove mindlessly for awhile. When we decided to get a room, we really didn't care where we would stay. We just wanted a bed. We decided we would stay in the first place we came to. We first came to a Marriott, but they didn't have a adjoining rooms that we needed in order for everyone to have a bed. Next door was a Hampton, and they had the rooms available. As John was checking in, the desk clerk asked what brought us to S.L. He replied simply that we had to take our daughter to Primary Children's, she then asked how she was doing. For the first time, John had to tell her that our daughter didn't make it. This sweet clerk, I'm sure was flustered and somewhat embarrassed. She refused to take payment for the rooms. I hadn't eaten since the morning I first took Brittany to the Dr, and I still didn't want to eat, but my kids were hungry. As we were preparing to leave to find some dinner, the front desk clerk knocked on our door with extra blankets, pillows and a garbage bag full of snack food. My kids felt like it was Christmas. I felt like it was heaven sent. We still left for some real dinner, but having "fun" food was a much needed distraction. The next morning we were a little late getting down to the lobby for breakfast. The same desk clerk was still on duty, and had the maids pull all the food out again that they had just cleaned up, so we could eat and not have to worry about going out. From that point on there were hundreds of small and large acts of sweet service on our behalf. We had Christmas lights put on our house by the time we got home that night, countless meals, grocery shopping, gifts, mementos, letters, flowers, cards, small notes from kids at my school, prayers, fundraisers.. it goes on and on... We had small kids going door to door collecting money for us, other kids cleaning our piggy banks, giving up Christmas presents, selling items, so many things done for us. And many more that I'm sure we will never know about.
I wrote down every card, every donation, every meal, every deed I could to keep track of them all. I haven't been able to start on my thank you cards yet. It feels a little too "final" still to be able to do that. It feels like I'm admitting she's gone. I know that she is, and that I can't change what has happened. But putting it down in words like that is still too much for me to be able to do. So, if you are one of those people, please know we are more appreciative than you will ever know. I want to send you a note, but for now I just can't, and I hope those who have done so much for us know this. In coming posts, I hope to spotlight these acts a little more. My fear is that I will miss some. If I do, I hope there will be no offence taken. Please understand that my brain is barely functioning. It is still a battle to just brush my teeth.
Jenelle, I am glad that you are able to express your feelings and I hope that it will help. I've seen John around town working a few times and wish I could do something to make everything better. I know I can't, but I am here for you if you need anything.
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