Prepare yourself, your child is very sick..

How many times did we hear this when Lucas was in the hospital? Too many to count.

The first time we heard it was the first Saturday after the surgery. We were told to call our family, let them know, Lucas was going to die. Tell them to come to the hospital. I remember feeling sick, I thought I was going to literally vomit all over the floor. The world was spinning completely out of control. What went wrong? What was happening? I remember holding on to my husband so tightly. We were both crying, I felt nauseous and thought my insides were going to burst and shrivel at the same time. It was like we were in a time warp and nothing was in focus. Nothing. All I wanted to do was go hold him. But I knew they were fighting to save his life. There were so many nurses and doctors tending to him, I couldn't get in there if I tried. I was just his mom. They were trying to save his life. They won out. I could only stand and watch as they poked and prodded and injected chemicals into his body; all in one effort to help him live, to win the current battle. ---Lucas won that battle that day. When you are told your child is going to die and to prepare yourself, there could be no harder words to hear. There are no harder words to hear.

All told, we would hear, "Lucas is going to die today or tonight" a total of four to five times. It did not get easier each time we heard it. It was more of a shock than the last time. I never numbed to hearing it. Sometimes it pissed me off. It always saddened me. That is an understatement to say the least.

The last time the Doctors told us that Lucas was going to die was two weeks before he actually passed away. It was on July 31st. It just so happens that my husbands father passed away on that same day five years earlier. The doctor that spoke to us was rather terse. His bedside manner was lacking at best. It was late at night, Lucas had a very intense and tough day. He was getting sicker. We still couldn't see it. Wouldn't let ourselves see it. He said to us, "Lucas is going to die tonight." So cold. So unfeeling. I stood there so angry. Angry at the world but letting myself aim it at him. Angry at God but aiming it straight at the doctor standing in front of us. Thinking he should be more kind, more caring, a little softer about it all. He was not. He was quite hurtful. There's something to be said for honesty, I get that. But downright coldness, that is different. It was no matter to him. He was being factual and forthright and completely overlooking that he was talking to two parents who were hoping, praying, wishing for a miracle for their little boy. He was completely overlooking that we were so fragile. Lucas was so fragile. We were hanging on by the thinnest of threads and THAT is the absolute truth. I remember so vividly that my husband looked at that doctor and said these words so clearly, so strongly, and he was my hero at that moment, once again. He said, "I know that God will not take him from us on this night, I know it, so no matter what you say he will live through this night." The doctor said to him, "what makes you say that?" and Ivan looked him dead in the eyes and said, "my father died this night five years ago, and God would not allow this to happen again on the same day, it's too cruel". The doctor fell utterly silent. He looked at the ground. I wanted to yell. I wanted to scream at him and tell him to leave the room. All I could do was hold Lucas' hand and cry at his bedside. ----The doctor said a very silent "I'm sorry" and I think he may have patted my husband's shoulder in sympathy and walked out of the room. I could not believe this was happening to my son. I didn't realize it at the time but he was holding on just for us. Just waiting for us to realize how very sick he was. Waiting for us to see that it was his time to go. It took two more weeks for me to allow my eyes to fully open to his pain.

The day he died started with an ounce of hope. It was only an ounce. I had been seeing, I had begun to realize what was happening. He was telling me, yelling silently that it was time. He was so strong yet had fallen so weak. His little body was broken but his spirit was ready to soar. He was waiting patiently. That morning I laid beside him in his bed. I talked to him and whispered in his ear that I loved him. That his Daddy loved him and that Noah loved him. I played Noah's voice in the tape one more time. I wanted him to hear his voice. Noah was down the hall with a nurse in the activity room but he was oblivious to what was happening. I told him to go with God, we were ready. Take His hand and not to hold on for us anymore. My husband told him the same thing unbeknownst to me, later after I did. Lucas would die less than an hour later. He waited for us to be 'ok' with it. To let him go.

When the doctor came in to witness his death, as his heart slowed to almost no beat, I stood by his side. I uttered almost nothing until the moment came. I felt I wanted to come out of my skin. I wanted to vomit again. I wanted to die. I wanted to go with him. I went over to the window and I looked up at the sky. I needed to see his spirt rise up. I needed to scream at God. I needed Lucas healthy. He finally was gone. It was done. He was at peace.

The path we have taken since then has been a long and winding one. Ups and downs. Highs and lows. The death of a child is heavy. It can tear you apart if you let it-if you are not strong enough to stand up to it, it will. Limb from limb and shred by shred till you are nothing. I did not choose that path. That would have been sadder than his death. God knows my heart is good. He knows my anger was born from ignorance. I still do not understand one bit of what happened. I'm thankful that through my writing, I have been able to heal and let it out. If I didn't have this, if I were a person who could not read or write, I would be in big trouble. I would have truly fallen apart. Like a mother lioness I tried to protect him. I only relented when I finally took the time to listen to his quiet signs.

I miss him so much yet life has taken a different road now. He matters so much that in all I do, he is in it. He is why I adore J so much. He is why I cherish N so much. He is why my marriage is more important; now more than ever. --When you hear the words, "prepare yourself, your child is not going to make it" dig your heels in and steel yourself. I pray you never hear those words. I pray it. I had no idea, absolutely zero idea what we were in for on April 22, 2003. There has to be a reason for all of this. We will find the silver lining. It may not be until we are standing before God but we will find it. In this I trust.....

J