Feelings

This may sound strange, but Dan and I are doing alright. We wrote that last post together. We want to be on the same page with everything and remain strong together. Of course, this is extremely hard, sad, and heartbreaking, and we have been having a lot of good conversations about life, love, and our little lady. We know that no matter what happens, we will all be OK. Either scenario will be harder than we can possibly imagine, but also OK. We truly do want what is best for Isabel. She has battled infections, surgeries, procedures and issue after issue. She has been so strong, and if she still has it in her to keep on fighting, we'll be with her all the way, and if not, she will be free. She'll be free of all of the tubes and medications, and free of all of the pain and struggle and illness in her body that was never supposed to be. We're holding onto her, open-handedly, and focusing on the gift that the last 6 months has been. We have gotten to know our little girl. We have seen her smile and play. For a long time, we never thought we would.
We have been operating "one day at a time" for months. It has been exhausting.We are now about to make moves forward and it feels good. Some day soon we will be going home as a family, and Isabel will get to meet her puppy brother. It may not be on our terms, but it will happen. We are so scared. We're scared to lose her and face life without her, and scared for how challenging her long-term care might be. In the end, we are not in control, and we place all of our lives in the hands of God. When I was pregnant, a verse kind of found me and stuck with me. "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart..." (Jeremiah 1:5) It is Isabel's verse. It's on the wall in her room at home, and I think about it a lot. She has always been, as we all are, a child of God. While she is here on earth we get to be her parents, and whenever she leaves us she'll be well taken care of. We love you so much, Isabel Ann.


On a separate note, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you to all of you who read this blog and Facebook and share your support. It gives us a way to share this experience. Being vulnerable and open about all of this, the good and the bad, has been very healthy for us. It means more than you know to feel that we are not carrying the weight of this alone. Your messages of support have been overwhelming.