pain and processing

Late Thursday, I called my mom. Stephen had been out of town at a conference for 3 days and I needed to talk to someone. I called my mom and she barely answered the phone. I could tell she was upset but I thought maybe she was just really missing Piper who got married just a few days before. When I asked if that was it she didn't answer. I waited a few moments and nothing was uttered. I said, "well, I understand if you don't want to talk about it. But if you need an ear, I am here." To which she said she didn't know what she could share. And then my heart sunk. She went on, "you know how we thought dad had pneumonia? He has cancer." Neither of us could talk. We just cried and I tried to reassure her that it would be okay and God is in control.

The following day is when we found out more. My dad was diagnosed with stage IV kidney cancer which spread to the hip and the lungs. This was the hardest thing I have ever had to hear. I don't want to think of my dad in pain. I don't want to think of my siblings watching him go through treatment. I don't want to think of how my mom will cope. I don't want to think of whether my kids will continue to get to be "sacks of potatoes" heading out to the car. I don't want to think of not having my dad as a sounding wall that I go to any time I need wisdom or advice. I don't want to think of missing him. He's my dad. He's always been there. He is the leader in our family. He is the one that no matter what, is grounded in his faith and seems unshaken. He brings joy. He is selfless. He works harder than anyone I know. He is generous. He is loving. He's my dad.

My heart is breaking. I am processing. I don't understand why. I hate this.

My sweet Hazel.

Hazel. Sweet Hazel. Where do I begin? Though you were a surprise, you were not an accident. On the contrary, I prayed for you for years. And in fact, deep in my heart, I knew you would be in our family even when we thought your big brother Crew might be our youngest child. My heart told me differently. I never thought our family was complete without a "Hazel." You can ask Mammy, or Daddy. I told them that the only thing that was missing before you joined our family was "a little girl named Hazel."

I found out you were growing in my tummy shortly after I told Aunt Tara (who was pregnant with little Hudson) that it's "too bad we weren't pregnant at the same time. It would be fun to have cousins close in age." And then you came! I am so glad that you did.

My pregnancy was fairly easy with you. I never got sick. And you grew just right. But at the end, you teased me. My body would tell me you were going to come soon, maybe even that day, and then you wouldn't. This teasing went on for weeks. Until finally, one night just as I was sitting down to rest for the evening, around 8:30 pm, I felt my tummy get tight saying that you were going to be coming soon. And then by 9:30 pm I told Stephen we should go to the hospital so that you could come and I could hold you. We got checked in at the hospital around 10:30 pm on September 11th. I really didn't want you to be born on September 11th because that is a sad day. So I waited and you came at 12:10 am on September 12th. You came so swiftly that all of the nurses weren't even ready for you! Some of them got frustrated with each other because they didn't take each other seriously when one told the other to come quickly because Hazel is coming. You came out with your umbilical cord wrapped around your neck twice, and that caused you to have a hard time catching your breath at first. I just held you and rubbed your back and told you to breath and soon enough, you did. You weighed 7lb 2oz and were 20" long. You grew in my tummy for 41 weeks! And you came with just a little bit of hair on your head.

I was immediately in love. I waited so long to meet you and there you were. I hope someday you get to have the same experience I did with you with your own baby; an easy pregnancy, a swift easy birth and the love and adoration that comes with meeting a baby for the very first time.

I love you my sweet Hazel.