I just can't believe it has been one year since we have touched our little boy. In many ways it feels like it was just yesterday. There are some memories like the feel of his hair and the puffiness of his hand that are so strong it feels he is right here with me -- and in other ways it feels like it was all in the distant past.
The craziest thing about losing a child is that one year later the rest of the world has moved on, yet the love for our child is just as strong if not stronger than they day we left that hospital. It's difficult. But on the other hand I look at our family and what we have become -- what we have overcome and I am left in awe.
Death is a crazy thing.
Many people look at our life and our families story and see so much pain -- they see a journey that many feel they could never walk. It's kinda crazy but Adam and I look at our journey and our little boy and we see this amazing story unfolding -- a beautiful picture of what God is all about. A story that tells of grace, trust, love, hope and even joy peeking though.
I look back over Gavin's death and it totally blows my mind how God orchestrated all the details -- everything he knew I as a mother needed -- everything Madison, Adam and Gavin needed, he provided it all in way or another.
Many people look at Gavin's death as an abrupt cold ending to a beautiful life -- we choose to see it as an amazing life perfectly planned, not ended short but rather finished right on time. I look at our last photos of our child and I see a sick little boy that was about to find freedom -- how can a mother not get excited about that.
Yes -- the pain runs so deep, and it always will. When I fully give God my pain and my grief, amazing things start to happen. It's like my eyes begin to open a little wider, seeing the things are hidden under sorrow. Seeing the promises He has fulfilled and embracing the restoration he has promised our family.
Today I not only celebrate our little boy's healing -- his end to his suffering, but also the healing of our family and the beautiful beginning of a new chapter.
November 8th, 2009 -- 8:00am
We are so tired. Tired is probably not even a good enough word for the state we are in. Watching our child suffering is unbearable. Gavin spent most of the night with O2 levels in the low 60's to low 50's -- yet he is still trying to keep going. His lungs are almost completely filed with fluid and his is swollen and grey. We are having so much difficulty keeping him comfortable. He is on lethal doses of narcotics and we also started with sedation medications -- but he is still building tolerance as the hours go by. His CO2 levels are probably so high at this point that he really isn't cognitively intact anymore but it is very difficult to hear him cry out.
I sat with him for a few hours last night and rested by hand of his chest just praying that each breath would be his last -- that he would realize that he didn't need to fight anymore. He could stop suffering.
Today we are stopping all fluids is hopes it will help this process. We are also seeing if we can begin Propofol to help him stay sedated and peaceful.
We can feel your prayers. Through all of this Adam and I have a sense of peace -- knowing that the end will be a moment of joy and freedom for his tired body.
Gavin passed away at 10:42pm snuggled up with Mommie and Daddy.