I've writen this over and over and I still can't manage to put together the proper words to truly express how this all makes me feel. I don't even feel like I should be writing this, because these aren't my stories to tell. And it certainly is not my place to try to tell them. But still - part of me knows I have to write something. I have to put something out there. But I don't even know where to start. *sigh*
Maybe I can start in the middle, as I don't know that I really have the authority to start at the beginning.
Tuesday morning, Dan was supervising Maeleigh as she "played" with her snow globes. She got to hold them and listen to the music they play. My favourite one plays "Swan Lake" and has a ballerina in the middle with swans all around. It's really quite beautiful. Maeleigh held it as it played it's little tune.
Later that day, I was reading about Baby Miranda and I could not stop crying. Her story is so tragic, so heartbreaking. And yet, so familiar. I read that she was being taken off life support and I wanted so badly for her to not need it. They kept updating, saying how family was holding her and singing to her. I don't know why, but I knew the time was coming and I wanted so badly for it not to. I kept updating the page, hoping for a miracle, hoping it would say "She's okay. She's going to be okay." At one point I stopped and I asked Whren to make sure she would be okay, to help her be okay.
And then "Swan Lake" played for a brief second. And I knew. The tears would not hold back any longer and I just knew.
I updated the page and noticed that the very moment "Swan Lake" played, was the very moment the page was updated to say that Miranda was with her mom, Sara. Her fight was over and the miracle that tens of thousands of people from all over the world had been praying for, hoping for, begging for, wasn't going to happen.
As I sit here now, four days later, on the day of their funeral, writing this, I am still choking on tears. Chad Cole, who just lost his wife and their only daughter, is embarking on a journey that no husband/father should ever have to make. It something no one should ever have to experience. I hope he realizes that everything he is feeling is normal. That it's okay to be sad and angry, depressed and furious, confused and unsure of himself, yet still somewhat happy that he got to spend 15 years with his wife and 3 days with his daughter. I hope he understands that it's okay if it's too hard to visit their graves, that most men in his situation don't go back for at least a year, and it doesn't matter bc they are in his heart and will always be by his side. I want him to know that when the time comes to move on and have another family, be it in five years or ten, that it's okay and they will never be forgotten. Keeping their pictures around will only help ease his pain. Eventually he will find peace. It may not be tomorrow or next month or even next year, but eventually it will come. And eventually he'll be able to talk to them without crying. Eventually his heart will heal and he will be okay. Because they are okay. They are together and they will always always be with him, no matter what. No matter what. And when he does have another family, it's perfectly acceptable to keep pictures of Sara and Miranda around so his younger children can know about their Big Sister and their Angel Mommy. In fact, it will probably be extremely healing for him.
More details about the horrible tragedy that took away Chad's family is available via Peaceful Parenting. She wrote an amazing article, and really did do justice for the two beautiful lives that were lost, despite her worries that she couldn't.
This entire story is really more than I can bear. I can't explain fully why - as I said eariler, it's not my story to tell and I don't have permission to tell it - but this story rocks me to my core. It terrifies me yet humbles me. I hope to one day share the story that is all to similar to Sara and Miranda's. But until then, I will continue to grieve on my own. I will continue to hold my babies and be thankful for every day I have with them.