Leah is gone from our lives 6 months today, so last night I did something I’ve been wanting to do for a while – I watched My Sister’s Keeper with Miriam, my youngest daughter. The last time we watched this film was with Leah, before she became ill.
I’m glad that Leah’s illness and suffering wasn’t prolonged like it was portrayed for the girl in this film.
Leah was unwell for just over 12 months.
I’m glad that I never had to make any difficult ethical decisions either.
I’m especially glad that when Leah was in an ‘end of life’ situation, that God gave me the grace and the strength to let her go and hand her over to her Heavenly Father.
When Leah became critically ill, I was able to talk to her about the possibility of death.
Leah would never have felt that death was a forbidden conversation topic, although of course I was praying for a miracle of healing as that is what I wanted most of all.
This time last year we were packing to go to Bristol. It was a time of fear and excitement.
More excitement than fear to be honest, because I really believed that through prayer, a bone marrow transplant and the amazing expertise of the haematology staff at Bristol Children’s Hospital, that Leah was going to recover.
Any fears I had at that stage, were fears of the “unknown” rather than fears of Leah not recovering.
This is a photo taken of Leah, Miriam, and I, as we were leaving the house to go to the airport to fly to Bristol on the 21st July 2013.
We had been told that Leah’s chances of recovery were 70% and that sounded quite good to me.
Recent research that was revealed to us since Leah died, would suggest that someone with Leah’s constellation of symptoms and her specific genetic mutation, only has a 50/50 chance of survival.
I’m really glad that we weren’t told THAT when she was alive. It’s important to hold onto hope and it’s easier – though certainly not impossible – to hold onto hope with a 70% survival statistic than with a 50% survival rate.
So what have I learned in the past 6 months?
I’ve learned that when Leah first died I was too numb/busy/exhausted to really understand the extent of my loss.
It’s only as time goes on that I’m realising how wide, high and deep is our loss.
I’m learning that emotional pain can be relentless.
I’ve learned that small unpredictable things will often cause me to fall apart quicker than the big predictable things – catching sight of one of her favourite foods on promotion in the supermarket often reduces me very quickly to tears. Since she was a toddler Leah loved shopping and invariably accompanied me on shopping trips – now I shop only out of necessity.
Sometimes I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a great abyss of emotional pain and grief.
However I’ve also learned that sadness and joy can coexist in my heart – I’m not sad all the time – there’s many happy moments too with family and friends and I definitely haven’t lost my sense of humour.
I’ve learned that I know some amazing people – people who have surrounded me and my family with their loving support on this sad and painful journey.
I’ve always been a very independent person but I can’t be so independent any more – I rely on emotional support from those around me a lot more than I used to.
I’ve discovered first hand the value of counselling – sometimes my weekly counselling sessions feel like an oasis in the desert – a safe place where I can talk about anything that I need to talk about.
I’m learning more about my relationship with God too – some things I’m less sure of and other things I’m more sure of, but I couldn’t get through any of this without Him.
I read my Bible every day and I use devotional readings, but I still find prolonged prayer difficult.
I continue to find worship songs the easiest way to connect with God and they often become my prayers.
The song that I have recently been listening to on ‘repeat’ is “Rescue Me” by Selah – the lyrics are amazing because they echo the cry of my heart:
Deep is the river that I have to cross
Heavy the weight on my shoulder
I have discovered how great is the cost
Of trying alone to cross over
I try and I try but the current’s too strong
It’s pulling me under and my strength is gone
Don’t leave me stranded
Rescue me, my God and my King
Water is rising and I cannot breathe
Wrap Your arms all around me and
Carry me over, carry me over
(Rescue me)
There is a bridge that is easy to cross
While all of our burdens are lifted
Peace is the land that is waiting for us
Lord, give me faith to believe it
Cause I’m in a storm but I’m willing to fight
I’ll overcome and I will not die with You by my side
Rescue me, my God and my King
Water’s are rising and I cannot breathe
Wrap your arms all around me and
Carry me over, carry me over
(Rescue me)
My Journey: 