I keep waiting for life to be settled again. I want another summer of organic, juicy strawberries, swimming with my babies in the mornings and family walks in the monsoons. I want to be at peace. I'm just not yet.
I watch Daisy playing on the floor with Aravis and I am crushed by her happy, smiling face and her constant down dogs. I keep thinking how grateful I am that she is alive and whole. I love watching her crawl. I love that she is already trying to stand up. I love her raspy little laughter. I love her tiny, perfect little round head. I hate that she was wounded. I hate that I couldn't protect her. I hate that she wakes up with nightmares almost every night. I have never been more certain of our decision to co-sleep. I am always close enough for her to touch and that is the only thing that soothes her.
Honestly, I'm a little worried about the hospital bill. I haven't seen it yet and the anticipation is killing me. I KNOW that God will meet us there the same way he met us in the hospital. We won't be abandoned.
But I'm nearing a boiling point. I haven't been able to cry (which is driving me CRAZY) and I am just so angry. I want to curl up with my kids and hold them close. I battle the desire to keep them close to me every second of the day, guarding them from any unknown threat. I know they still need to live. They need to play and adventure. I don't want my fear to keep them trapped too.
I want freedom and life and joy for all of us. I am careful not to express my fear to Aravis. I know she will soak it up and carry it as her own fear. And that girl doesn't need to be afraid.
Because what REALLY happened two weeks ago was not that Daisy was almost taken from us. What really happened was Daisy was rescued. God intervened. Daisy fought hard. She wrestled with the venom. She battled to breathe. And that's why she's playing on the living room rug right now.
I wish I could wipe the pneumonia from her lungs. I wish I could inflate that dang collapsed lung. I wish I could give her her voice back. But those things will come. She will heal. And I will snuggle her every night, through every nightmare until she feels safe again. Cause that's my job. And, honestly, I wake up at night too. I remember the trauma of that night and I want to be reassured that she is here and untouched. We're in it together.
So, this summer will be different, but I will always remember it as the summer I rocked Daisy to sleep 4 times a night. It will always be the summer of life.
*Did you see Daisy's story on Inside Edition?