40 days

Being pregnant has made me think deeply and long and hard about Nora and everything she ever went through. I mean specifically the pain she endured.

The other night I was nauseous as I am most of the time these days but it was making me think about Nora. She threw up often and we never really knew why but we think she had nausea a lot. I felt awful for her and began to really wonder why she suffered. I felt awful that we put her through not just the nausea but the surgeries and everything else. We kept her alive artificially. Why? I know why. It was because she wanted the chance. She told me everyday she wanted to keep on fighting for a chance at this life. I knew while she was inutero that her death sentence of a diagnosis did not fit the baby's spirit. She was feisty and vivacious. She was not going down without a fight.

But still what she endured is so utterly heartbreaking. A lot of the pain she suffered was ironically exactly 40 days from the day she went for the second heart surgery until the day she died. The mistakes that were made caused her an inordinate amount of pain, the kind of pain that should be controllable, the kind that shouldn't be allowed, the kind of pain that you can't imagine. I can. I was there. It was terrible. So why Nora. Why pain? Why so much on someone so small and innocent?

The answer is elusive. I didn't quite get it until after she was gone. It is unexplainable really but I will try. Somehow in the depth of my soul I know that Nora's pain helped heal us and people that knew her and the world. I knew she accepted her pain with fortitude and courage and fearlessness. I saw the determination in her eyes when it came. I knew, you could feel it, that something great was going on. We couldn't see it but we could feel it. There was a peace at times of extreme pain that beyond explanation. Sometimes there was even a joy, a victory in her eyes while it was happening.
40 days of it. The irony is so uncanny. 40 days fasting in the desert. She did it for us.   

When the time came and the pain was too much. The suffering was too great, she let us know. We let her go. Life issues can get harried and complex. There is no room for judgement, only love. No one can say who should live and who should die. There is no right and wrong when it comes to these delicate situations. There is only what is. Nora always had the choice to live. It was always her decision. Good parents listen to their ill children and help them along as much as they can as long as the child says yes. Sometimes living does get too hard. Sometimes the pain is too great ... and I don't mean just physical pain. Sometimes there comes a point when we need to let go and say goodbye. These decisions are not easily made and this is not an area where there is much clarity. All I know is never judge another.