Thursday, June 26, 2008

Angel Alexa

Some time my words are not enough. After reading the following post I certainly did not have anything to say. This entry is by the mother of Alexa. We know Alexa's family as we know so many that have been touched by neuroblastoma here in the Dallas / Fort Worth area. She was very loved and will always be remembered.

When I was little I dreamed about all the things I wanted to be when I grew up. I was sure I was going to be famous. I was going to sing on Broadway and light up the big screen in movies. I was going to be something the world would know and love. Now that I am grown and look back, I wish I would have known that all my dreams would come true by just being the mother of an incredible darling girl named Alexa. Alexa. My first child, my only daughter, my little pal and my heart's desire. I love you.

On Saturday when Alexa crashed for the first time, Zack and I had an extremely mournful experience. We were in shock and we were in pain and anguish for our girl. Zack went and stood by her and touched her arm. I gathered the strength to stand beside him and touch her leg and the love and peace we felt immediately calmed our fears and extinguished our pain. She was there telling us she was okay and comforting our hearts.

We knew then that she was going to go. We tried to ignore it but we knew it was coming. Yesterday when she was taking so long to recover from each suctioning we got scared. Late in the night and early this morning we both knew it was coming. Zack stared at her and stood by her side. I was overwhelmed by the urge to sleep and forget. She wasn't sick in my dreams. I slept in until 9:30 trying to ignore what was going on.

I woke up, didn't talk to anyone, kissed my girl, got dressed and stood by her bedside knowing what would come today. It was confirmed when the doctors called us into rounds and explained what they thought would be best to do for her. We agreed and went back to her room to spend time with her.

The staff closed our door and let Zack and I take a moment with her. We talked to her and told her things and read her book to her that I wrote so long ago for this very occasion. It brought a major sense of peace to both of us, especially Zack. He told me later that it was ironic that I had written that for her and for others but it turned out to help us the most. We told her to do what Jesus was telling her and that she could go and it would be okay, that we would take care of brother.

The staff crowded in and Zack and I sat on the couch ready. We did not cry. We sat there ready for our girl to tell us when it was time. She fought valiantly and tried to go, but the nurses, machines and drugs were working furiously to make her little body keep working. Finally it was time and without speaking to one another Zack and I got up at the same moment and went to her blue little body and told her to just go. The staff backed away and told us they were basically doing CPR at that time with machines. We knew she was tired. We knew it was over. What happened next was truly one of the best experiences we'll remember always.

The staff offered to let us hold her. They all worked silently and quickly to move the bed out from under her. I pulled up a rocking chair under her and they gently laid her body in my arms as Zack embraced us both. She was still shaking from the oscillator so I asked that it be clamped off. She was finally at rest. We held her for just a few moments longer and I happened to look at the clock. It was 11:20. I turned back to her, closed my eyes and laid my hand on her heart and moments later the doctor told us she was gone.

We held strong until she left and then our mourning began. Dr. Niece and other hospital staff came to love on her, family members held her. The staff was extremely gracious to us, allowing all the time we wanted. I held her and rocked her for about 5 hours before we placed her in bed for the last time.

Zack and I are at home together. We look forward to seeing our son come back home tomorrow. We will be surrounded by family and friends. As soon as we get a date and time for the service I will post it.

All we need now is prayers and time.

Some days purpose just doesn't seem like enough.

1 comment:

Curt McCormick said...

I work for CureSearch and read your blog all the time.

It is very difficult to read your entries sometimes. You are thoughtful and spot-on, and thus what you write can be devestating.

Angel Alexa deserved so much better. Every child with cancer does. Every mom and dad and brother or sister does.

Here at CureSearch, I start each work day with a brief prayer that the work I do in some tiny tiny way will be worthy of every child with cancer.

This article should be read by every single politician who tells us that childhood cancer is funded enough.

As the father of three, this entry made me personally mad and now I will redouble my efforts.