[3 years ago] today, for you, i lived

Three years ago today we completed our family, and brought to the world the two most beautiful girls it will ever see.

But something else happened. Three years ago I fought for you, for love, and won.

I’m sure the actual time span of it all was quick, but for me the end was moving in slow motion.
I remember laying there and slowly slipping. Falling. Fading. The words from the anesthesiologist of what the possibilities were quickly echoed in my mind. I could feel my body shutting down like someone had cut the engine and the rotors were slowly coming to a halt. I remember how peaceful it felt the farther I slipped, and how easy it would be to just let go and let the black blanket over me.

I remember thinking of you. Knowing that you’d be ok. That there was no better man in this world to raise my children without me. That they would always know love and you’d have all the patience you needed to get through everything. I felt safe in that knowledge. I slipped away a little farther.

Then I pictured your face. Thought of holding your hand. I’m sure all of my thoughts and realizations, though feeling like several minutes or longer, happened in moments. Because next I panicked. I’d never see your face again. Only from a distance. Would I be able to hear your voice? I would never ever be able to touch you, hold you, feel you. I would never smell you. I remember thinking all of these things and being so scared.

I started clawing my way back. If it was just one last look, one last kiss, one last ‘I love you’, I had to have it.

Calling out for you was hard. I couldn’t find my voice. I frantically fought to open my eyes and when I did the doctor was there. His voice faded in, but I was still far away. I felt tired and weak. Just a second before I was slowly sinking into my eternity of sleep and now I’m fighting with everything I have to claw and climb. In my head I was screaming your name. Calling and calling for you. Begging my body to give me just a few more moments. As the doctor’s face began to come more and more into focus, so did his voice.
‘Keep your eyes open, Laura. Look at me. Keep breathing!’

Breathing. Oh yeah. Was I doing that? I checked. Took a breath in…. Like electricity I felt a jolt with that breath. It was just enough of a kick to help aid in my exhausting battle. I found my voice and didn’t waste a second before I used it. I called for you. Begged them to let me see you. I had to see you. Needed to. My one last wish in life was to just see you and touch you one last time.

But there would be no last time. I fought and clawed and climbed, and I made it. You were finally there, and everything was set right again.

Today I celebrate the birth of my beautiful girls. Their spirit and spunk, and all the color and fire they bring to the world.
And today I celebrate life and love.
Love wins.

 

a letter to my husband