Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Swirling, Unforgiving, Nauseating, Heart Pounding Questioning

My baby died of Cancer.
Sometimes this very sentence sends me reeling. How could this happen? How could my child, formed of immense love and carried within me, enter this world with the chips so severely stacked against her? A one in fifty million chance, was that some kind of a joke? When you worry about what can go wrong in a pregnancy, you never picture this. It is simply unimaginable. How could her body have betrayed her so cruelly? How could her blood have been riddled with Cancer at its creation? Why were there no warnings? I was her Mother, how could I have not known? Sometimes I lose days on end, lost in the swirling, unforgiving, nauseating, heart pounding questioning.
Since losing Peyton, I feel unable to escape stories of sick children fighting for their lives. Each blog, it seems, has a button with another story of a sick child needing prayers. Click after click, I read these stories and pray that God will show these children a level of mercy and healing that he did not bestow upon my child. And with each story, I wonder how many more Mothers need to leave hospitals with empty blankets, aching arms, and broken hearts?
It is as if I am seeing the unforgiving nature of this world for the first time. How can this be? Was it always this way; a world filled with the suffering of children? How could there have been so many Mothers with broken hearts out there, without me knowing? How could I have been so naive to believe that terminal illness was for the old? How could I have thought that those that I loved were immune to the evils of Cancer? Was I that proud? Was I that self centered?
Last night I stumbled upon a story about a beautiful little girl named Abigail, who is fighting Leukemia, the same vicious disease that took my Peyton. Abigail's chances are much better than Peyton's. She is older, three or so, and has already made it through several months of chemo. She falls into an age range with a 90% plus cure rate, my poor Peyton was looking at a percent of a percent at best.
While reading her story, scrolling through her page, and admiring the strength of faith displayed by her parents, I found myself sucker-punched and unable to breathe. The right side of her blog had a picture of Abigail with her parents, it read "us with our sweet Abigail who was diagnosed with Leukemia on Oct. 2nd, 2008." Reading that, my heart broke at the realization that on the very day that my sweet Peyton drew her last breath in the battle against Leukemia, this little girl was just beginning the fight. I sat there, staring at the date in awe, knowing that our lives, and that of Abigail's parents, came crashing down on the very same day... and I prayed to God to grant this child the miracle that we had so wanted for Peyton, the miracle of a cure.


  1. I posted about your blog a minute ago. I'm no English guru but I think you meant 'wife' in your header when you said "A man who's lost his 'CHILD' is called widower".

    Welcome to our community!!

  2. Stopped in from Veronicas page (Of MICE and Ramen)

    I'll be back after work today to get caught up.
    Hope you don't mind another friend and follower.

    HuGZ and Blessings.
    I'm so sorry for your loss.

    Take my hand dear friend and we'll pray together.


  3. I came to your blog via Of Mice and Ramen, I can not even imagine how losing your baby has affected you. My 2 y/o was diagnosed with Leukemia 2 months ago, so I felt compelled to comment. Even though it shouldn't be, its always in the back of my head, that something could go very wrong. I will be thinking of you, and praying that you find peace.

  4. My heart and prayers will be with you. I found you on Abby's website. Your story touches my heart. I haven't lost a child, but I have lost my mom 11 years ago and my dad is currently fighting terminal kidney cancer. Your daughter is beautiful and your posts are so true and raw and touching. A tribute to your sweet Peyton and to your husband and your marriage. I will pray that God will touch your heart and give you His strength, comfort and peace. I thought you might want to know about that blog - although I don't know her either, I have been praying for her. Their little girl, Cora, passed from leukemia too. God Bless You - Juli

  5. veronica lee, thank you so much for catching my typing error! I missed that somewhere in the exhaustion when I last changed my template. A thousand thank you's for that, and most especially for introducing me to your followers.

    Tami, thank you so much for your expression of kindness and your prayers.

    Manic Mother, I am so sorry that your little one has to battle this disease. Your child is in my prayers today.

  6. oh well hey, thank you for commenting, and for showing me that other blog. I am so sorry that Cancer has ripped through your family the way it has. There is so much injustice in having both of your parents fight this same battle. Your dad is in my prayers, as are you during this impossible time. There is no other way to put it. Its just impossible

  7. Oh, I can so relate. It makes me feel sick to my stomach to think that my poor baby's fate was doomed before she was even conceived. She grew with love inside of me for 37 weeks, only to be flung into this world to experience pain and death. I feel so guilty. She deserved so much more. She WANTED to live and defied the odds just by being born alive. We tried to give her everything a baby should have for the fifteen days that she lived, but it will never be enough.

  8. As mom to a child who battled a rare disease, one I never knew existed before her birth, I have to say I too have wondered how I ever lived in an existance without knowing...children die. I spoke at a child's funeral yesterday. Her life touched, and taught so many. I have to think that God creates these tiny children, knowing their short lives will affect many, many people in such a way that all who come to know, and hear of them will be changed...hopefully for the good of mankind. One in fifty million, Peyton has to be some kind of tiny messenger...

  9. I love that your pain hasn't caused your heart to close up. Feeling for and connecting with the pain of others is what we're all supposed to be doing-- not making this world a worse place to live in through bitterness which is usually the easy way out of challenge.

    Love you and your blog.

  10. Coming over from ICLW. Your blog has touched me so deeply. I am so incredibly sorry for your loss. I think it is amazing that you have the strength and fortitude to continue on and that you are showing such concern and sympathy for other families. You must have a wonderful, open, and loving heart. GL on your journey, you will be in my prayers!