At some point, we’ve gone from living in fear and anticipation of Abigail’s death to celebrating her life. It’s a beautiful thing. Abigail has opened my heart, stolen it away, even when initially I was afraid to give it to her, knowing she would likely break it into a million pieces. It was hard not to be guarded, hard not to be a little leery of this 8lb angel baby, threatening to leave me at any minute. But she’s defied the odds. And continues to do things and progress like we never thought possible. Watching her sparks hope inside me, and honestly I haven’t been very hopeful throughout this journey. I know what God’s word says, but its been hard to tune out the “reality” of the situation. But Abby doesn’t seem to care what anyone says about what she can do or how her life will look. She’s been doing her own thing, with her own agenda from day one. God’s agenda. Much different and infinitely better than my own plans and expectations of her.
Don’t get me wrong, the fear is still there, sneaking up on me when I think I’ve managed to forget the words “terminal diagnosis”. Rendering me paralyzed and useless to do anything except torture myself with every “what if” scenario and giving in to the overwhelming sorrow. But it’s not always there. There are many moments of joy between the tears. A sense of normalcy and family is starting to emerge, rather than a state of limbo, waiting for the ball to drop. We still don’t know what the future holds. But we are ready to live through this, rather than just merely survive. A lifetime is a lifetime, no matter how long or short it is. And we are determined to make Abigail’s lifetime incredibly fulfilling and joyful. She will know how loved she is.