Dear 5 Days,
It wasn't that long ago that you ripped the hearts out of Shaina and I. We watched our little two and a half month old cling to life as her heart was getting worse and worse. We knew it wasn't good but when you showed up, it was devastating. We had so many hopes and dreams and aspirations. She would grow up, dominate in sports, academics and music and live a meaningful life that changed the world.
Then you came. The words the doctor spoke about you...the pit of despair and the pit in our stomachs. How could we go from a perfectly-normal-meet-all-the-milestones ten week old to a she may make it through tonight but not many nights after that tragedy?
You made us feel more emptiness, more wounding, more agony than we thought was possible.
How else can you react when you're told the daughter you dream of walking down the aisle on her wedding day isn't even going to have a birthday let alone a marriage?
5 Days to Live.
Then you met another one of our friends. Her name is 3 Years Old.
And we like her a lot.
July 1st, the munchkin will be three. The disease takes most of the kiddos at birth or by 6 months old.
That you didn't get the last word is pretty remarkable but know this 5 Days, you didn't get the final say. You're not the Supreme Authority.
3 Years had one thing she wanted us to say to you on her behalf.
Up yours 5 Days.
We'll take our chances with the one who makes dead hearts beat again.
And we celebrate.
Because 3 years old is better than 5 days.
Because 3 years old is freaking awesome!