Chasing Rainbows

Joy and pain live so close by these days. The sun is shining, and all three children are happily playing together (by acting out an imaginative world where Taylor is a lead dolphin rehabilitator, Parker is her assistant and chief weather forecaster, and Charlotte is the baby dolphin in need and being trained in this marine facility also known as our living room!). I'm watching while sipping coffee and then they thrust me into their world as the audience of Charlotte's performance guided by her trainers, Taylor and Parker. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Then, as if jolted out of a dream, fear and pain creep slowly in.  I try to chase them away, but I cannot not. Joyful one moment, a teary eyed scared mom the next. Joy and pain. They are both close to my surface and I can not always control which one is being felt. Laughing one moment, a puddle of tears the next. Joy and pain: a delicate balancing act right now.

I see old pictures and videos of last June when we were at our annual family beach vacation. I was brought back there. And again, there is joy and pain. I want those carefree days again with a chubby, happy and healthy faced Charlotte. I want what any parent would want. I am not unique. And I also know I need to allow these moments of grief to slip in because it's a grieving process still. But I get angry at some of the ways this has changed me. There is an aquaintance who was recently diagnosed with cancer. She has young children like ours. She is beginning the battle of her life. She had surgery and is beginning chemo. And although I was so sad for her and her family, I felt another emotion I couldn't quite put my finger on. Then, a few days later I realized what it was. Slight jealousy. I was jealous of this woman because every single day I wish it were me. I wish it were me and not my sweet baby girl. And I'm ashamed I felt this way but I also know it's what we do as parents. We protect and harbor. I hate that this journey has changed my lens this way. And I feel selfish for hearing someone's devistating news and viewing it from my own selfish eyes. But there it is none the less and I cannot change it. I cannot remove these new eyes. And I hate it. I hate how I cannot be the one. And Brian would feel the same, he would take this disease and shoulder it if he could.  But this is Charlotte's battle and we are helpless to sit by and help with whatever strength we have. She is sweet and innocent but toughening up in ways we wish she didn't have to. I wish it were me every single day.

But as I simultaneously pack 2 of my children for their beach vacation, and the third for her next hospital stay to under go chemo, I have another surreal moment. Is this really happening? Wasn't it just yesterday everything was ok? How are we here? Oh, somedays we have it all together. And some days, like today, we feel weak, sad, and afraid. But not a single day has gone by where we have felt like giving in, or felt alone, or felt hopeless. Never those. And we thank god for that. We are human. And I am not unique or remarkable. But Charlotte is. She is doing unique and remarkable things. We only need to look to her for that reminder. And sometimes we look up and see another rainbow. We will keep chasing those rainbows from God.

I know this isn't a typical post updating how Charlotte is doing. She IS having a happy week home and here are some pictures below. Brian has noticed this page has become a bit therapeutic for me. He is right. Writing about this journey feels like a way to witness. Like we are a part of some plan of God's that we cannot understand and perhaps sharing all that comes from this journey is a way to help not only sort through emotions and understandings, but also help demonstrate our ongoing journey in our faith. Perhaps it also enables us to harness the power of prayers and the positivity from all of you who have chosen to care about our Charlotte. If this is being asked of us, I want to do whatever work I can to help walk this road God is paving. And when I look for a reason as to "why?", the only answer I have been able to come up with is that we are truly witnessing God in live uncensored action. I don't think I'm suppose to understand more then that...not just yet.

Charlotte learned what a photobomb is ha!

Enjoying the swings 

is very accepting of the fact she cannot join her brother and sister in the pool, chips and salsa help!

Charlotte is a force to be reckoned with when she scooters. One of her favorite past times

Ella's hats from the Gibson family. Beautiful charity from Springfield, VA

Dresses and big wheels 

No baths for over a year (only sponge/wash cloth baths allowed), but we get creative so she can safely have some water play 

Charlotte at 8 mos learning to crawl, and from

Last year at 1.5 yrs old at the beach. Pain and joy