Happy Birthday, Wonder Woman

When I was a little girl, my family visited Omaha Beach in Normandy, France. Though I understood very little about the significance of the location, I have always remembered the trip. Specifically, I remember running with children of different nationalities up and down into grassy spaces that seemed like bowls carved into the ground. I remember my mother telling me that those bowls were craters caused by bombs from WWII. I didn’t understand the significance, my six year old self couldn’t imagine the type of destruction that could leave permanent marks in the earth decades later. I couldn’t comprehend the death, the grief, that each of those craters caused, rippling out from the beach to families around the world.

Lately I keep thinking about those craters, thinking about the lush green grass, the beautiful sunny day, and how it all stood in such stark contrast to D-Day over 70 years ago when those hills were filled with chaos and pain. The day those bombs and artillery hit the ground with such force that it would never be the same again. In many ways, I relate to those broken up hills. Irreparably torn apart, but still standing.

This year has been one that has torn me apart. Conversations with doctors who didn’t value my daughter’s life, emergency hospital stays, living every day wondering if my daughter would be alive when I walked into her room, watching her in pain and being unable to help. All of these moments have been like bombs dropped on me, tearing me up piece by piece over the last year. But just like the grass that grew over the craters in Normandy, there is healing. The chaos fades and the jagged edges smooth. There is new growth, evolution. “Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” (2 Corinthians 4:16-18)

So let me say, Happy birthday little Wonder Woman.

We were told statistically you weren’t likely to see this day. Yet here you are. We were told you would be a vegetable, that you would probably forget how to breathe one day. We were given DNR’s to sign for you. You were placed on hospice care. I’ve dreamt of your funeral, I’ve considered the details, never brave enough to settle on any. I’ve handed you to doctors, praying that it wasn’t the end. I’ve watched you sleep from anesthesia wondering if this time you wouldn’t wake. I’ve listened to you scream from pain, fear, confusion. I’ve watched you seize uncontrollably for far too long. And yet, here you are.

Your mark on our family is indelible. Your strength is incredible. Your love is unconditional. Your value is precious, priceless, and matchless.

“For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.” Psalm 139:13-16

As always, huge shout out to Cute E’s Photography for giving our baby girl her first cake and amazing pictures. You are the best.