On Children

On Children

Khalil Gibran in his beautiful piece called "On Children", starts off by saying,

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

I have read this stanza often over the past several months.  It is helpful to think of Stella and Sam as part of the universe as opposed to belonging to us.  In this way, I try to think of them as a gift that Aimee and I have been lucky enough to be charged with looking after until the world decides it is time for them to return to the universe where their spirits will spread joy and comfort to the world.  Sometimes I can think like that, but other times I feel desperate to hold onto my children.  To scream that they DO belong to me.  But they don't.  I realized that the day the Doctor told us that Stella would die and there was nothing we could do.  No amount of money, love, treatments or prayers would save her  And though she is still here with us, we have watched helplessly as she has begun to return to a newborn-like state.  Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, life to death.

Stella grew inside of me.  From something the size of a poppy seed to a plump, porcelain-skinned baby with a head full of red hair and the spirit to match.  In the last months as Stella's faculties have started to fail her I feel as though she has started to melt back into my body, where she once grew.  I have become Stella's legs, her arms, her voice and upon occasion, her eyes.  We move as one.  Wherever I go, Stella goes.  Whatever Stella needs, I get for her.  We are in sync and just as Aimee and I have learned to anticipate her needs and translate her incomprehensible mumbling as her lips struggle to form the words to tell us what she needs.  

Living like this is exhausting.  Exhaustion is not the same as being tired.  Exhaustion is something that no amount of sleep or rest can fix.  Exhaustion comes from doing the same thing day after day and buckling under the physical and emotional weight of it.  It's waking up every few hours at night to give Stella medications, to feed her a bottle, to help her with a bowel movement she doesn't have the strength to push out on her own. On alternate nights, it's getting up with Sam in the middle of the night and feeding him a bottle while cars whiz by in the distance, a reminder of other people living busy lives.  It's waking up and carrying her in your arms to the couch, her stiff arms and legs straight as boards, her head flopped against your shoulder.  It's feeding her yogurt or avocados and trying to pry her teeth open with words of encouragement and smiles.  It's sitting for hours on the couch watching Dora, painting Stella's nails, having tea parties.  Not allowing your mind to wander anywhere because you are afraid to miss a smile, a word or a moment.  It's eating with either Stella or Sam on your lap, trying to balance a plate of food while arms and legs swing uncontrollably at you.  It's taking turns feeding, changing and playing with your 11 week old and your 2 1/2 year old (who needs just as much care as your newborn).  It's walking to Sobey's everyday and having 35 avocados in your house (at $2 each), because that is the only thing Stella wants to do.  It's a mix of deep appreciation, sadness, hope and dread that circles your soul like a group of buzzards.

Stella is still happy.  She still smiles and plays and eats and drinks, but Aimee and I see differences in her from two weeks ago, and are scared for what lies ahead.  She is starting to have more difficulty holding her head up and starting to show signs that swallowing is getting more difficult.  We don't know how long it will be until it becomes a real issue, but we've started throwing around words like, "morphine pump"…"feeding tube"…"quality of life".  As long as we are able to focus on being in the moment, life feels happy but when we allow our minds to drift to the past or the future it feels almost unbearable.  

I had a dream last night that Stella and I were out for a walk.  In my dream, she was walking beside me like she used to…never holding my hand, because she wanted to be free to run ahead…but then she fell into quicksand and started to sink.  I was desperately holding her by the arms trying to pull her out, but the weight was too great for me and she started to slip.  The strange thing was that she didn't appear scared or sad, she was laughing gleefully as the quicksand buried more and more of her body.  When I woke up, instead of feeling anxious and scared, I felt at peace.  Our job as parents is simply to give our children the best life possible, and there was no guarantee of how long that time would be.  Stella and Sam are both well cared for.  They are not scared, they trust Aimee and I completely to meet their needs and keep them safe and happy to the best of our abilities.  

Stella and Sam are both happy right now.  They are surrounded by love and parents who would do anything for them.  For now, that's all they need.  Aimee and I have given them everything we have and we must find courage in her strength and energy in Sam and Stella's smiles.

On Children
 Kahlil Gibran

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.