My prayer

There have been so many times during the past six months that I have gotten worn down, so many times where I’ve reached a point where I just didn’t think I could take it anymore, this past weekend was one of those times. McKaylee is really starting to wear down from the Chemotherapy….and we’ve only just completed the first cycle. We’re supposed to have about five more months of this before her treatments slack off a little bit, there’s a part of me that wonders if she’ll be able to take five more months of this. She has been lethargic, moody, irritable, and has cried endlessly for days. There have been moments, sometimes even lasting an hour or so, where she seems her normal, bubbly self but for the most part she’s been really out of sorts. I can feel myself breaking down a little bit. It had already started to happen when she got an infection last week and was admitted to the hospital, but spending the past few days tending to a screaming, miserable child has almost put me over the edge. I took her outside yesterday evening after my husband went back home for another week of work and for the first time in awhile, it was just mommy and McKaylee . We walked around together and examined the trees, poked at some ants and crunched some dead leaves in our hands. She toddled along holding my finger and pointing at all the squirrels and birds and calling them “kitty-kitty’s”. I got a little choked up watching her, she was unusually calm and happy, much unlike the McKaylee we’ve seen over the past few days. Her hair has started coming out, so her head is getting a little patchy and her eyes are rimmed with hues of red and cupped by faint black circles beneath. She’s lost a little bit of weight and is starting to look less like she did when we first got here.

 As I was standing there staring at her it was like I suddenly realized how sick she really is. I wanted to cry and the tears were there, but I didn’t let myself. I guess I was scared that if I started crying, I wouldn’t be able to stop. She sat down on the sidewalk, so I joined her and she seemed to be so caught up in her own world….running her finger along the pavement, watching the birds look for insects, twiddling a piece of grass between her fingers. Suddenly, she turned her face towards me and her crystal blue eyes sparkled as they met mine. She smiled, her tiny baby teeth showing through, and softly said, “Momma….”. Then she scooted closer and hugged me, patting her little hand on my back. A tear rolled down my face as I rubbed the back of her hair with my hand and watched as her little baby hairs floated away in the breeze. I held her for what seemed like forever, just savoring that precious moment of love between us. She pulled away and smiled at me again before falling back into the amazement of the world around her. And in that moment, for the first time, I thought about what it would truly be like to have to lose her. To not see that precious face every morning, smiling at me so innocently. To not hear her tiny voice calling out “Momma”. To miss her smell, her soft skin, her beautiful eyes and all the precious little things in between that make her my little girl. The feeling of sadness I felt was unlike anything I have ever experienced. I physically and emotionally hurt in such a way that I couldn’t even move. I closed my eyes for a moment and begged God for about the millionth time to please let me keep her. I know He loves her more than I ever could and her life belongs to Him, and I believe all those things to the depths of my being....but is it so wrong for me to just want to keep her?
  So I’ll just go on walking this impossible journey, tears in my eyes, burdens on my back, casting them all at the cross; then waking up the very next day and doing it all over again. And I’ll still end my days pleading with Jesus Christ for my little girl’s life. So it goes, “Dear Jesus, I don’t proclaim to know your purpose in all this. I don’t pretend to understand your plan and I admit that I don’t always walk each step in humbleness to You. I may not be a perfect mommy, but I love my children. This little angel is my world, she delights my life and I love her so intensely, sometimes it hurts. Please Jesus, bind this tumor, do a miracle in the healing of this little girl’s life and please let me keep her. Jesus, please let me keep her. Jesus, please let me keep her.”