When The Phone Rings...

I've had a strange Friday...  can't really put my finger on why.  I just feel different.  And I guess, sad.

Let me back up - yesterday Desirae went to a friend's house after gym class.  This friend has a bunch of animals, and my poor girl is allergic to animals.  So, letting her go was a new - and totally out of my comfort zone - thing.  But her and this girl seem to really click, so I knew I needed to at least try.

What I didn't know is how having Des gone was going to affect me.  On the way home I looked in my rear view and her empty seat made my stomach drop.  I reminded myself she was with a friend...  Then Sam started begging for her. "Where's Desiway, I want Desiway" and I felt 3 again when I could totally understand what he meant.  She's always with us.  We got home and I got ready for the trade show I had last night at the mill.  While I was in the shower, the phone started ringing.  All I could think was something had happened to Des... they were going swimming, did she drowned?  They were going to be around a lot of animals, could she not breathe?  Was there an accident?  Is she OK?  I could almost hear the words in my mind as if the doctor had come out to tell us she was gone.

Are you kidding me?  It's a play date.  When did a simple play date become so complicated? Rationally, I knew I was being a freak.  But there is no demanding rational thoughts from such a traumatized mind and heart.  I have to continually lay all my fears at the foot of the cross... but that always comes after I've felt them.  And when I feel them... they feel so real.  It's like having nightmares while I'm wide awake.

So, I left for work and I was bringing some of Rachel's daisies from my house to use as decor...  Matt put them in a basket for me and brought them to the van.

When you have as many kids as me, you know that it's a good habit to always check and count.  I usually do this as I'm leaving my driveway.  Last night, although alone, was no different.  I pulled around the corner and looked in the rear view... empty seats everywhere - oh yeah, I'm alone.  And then I looked at Sam's seat...

And I really felt like a freak cause for a moment, I just allowed myself to pretend like it was her.

I knew right then why play dates are so complicated.

As much as I love flowers, I never want to have to find a way to symbolize or represent my children ever again.  I don't want to have another grave to sit on every week.  I don't want any other races to put on, playgrounds to build, or places to do public speaking.  I want them.  I want to keep them.  I want to watch them grow.  I want to look in my rear view and see their big, beautiful eyes staring back at me - even if they are driving me crazy and in trouble.  I want to take care of them, teach them, love them and kiss them when they are hurt.

And although everyone tells me what a great job I do for my girl and how gracefully I've handled this... I never want to do this again.  God, are you listening?  NEVER.  And I'm not so sure I could make it through a 'next time' alive. 

I heard myself pray as I was holding Asa last night "Please God let me keep him"   And I know that everyone else thinks that's a given at this point... but I'm not naive enough anymore to think it's beyond me now.  Every moment is a gift - and every breath could be our last.  You never know what the future holds (even for healthy kids) and while that might be a good thing, it's what leaves me uneasy when the phone rings while I'm in the shower.