He Knows

 *Trigger warning: I discuss Ayla's death and if that is something that might be too difficult, skip this one and read some of my happier posts*

I remember every moment ten years ago from the time my baby projectile vomited on me. That small moment I knew something was wrong, I pushed it off as normal because as a new mom who hasn't been thrown up on? I worked in a daycare where this happens all the time, and yet, why was I feeling uneasy? A trip to the doctor confirmed that Ayla merely had the flu and it was fine. But it wasn't. She wasn't fine. I remember asking if her fussiness could be due to meningitis and the doctor told me that he didn't think so and I'm sure in his mind a new mom knew nothing and as the medical professional I believed him, 

I sat in the chair all night giving her medication as soon and the dosage intervals would allow but still she cried and cried. Looking desperately at me begging me to help her and my heart was breaking more and more with every tear coming out of her eyes. I was her mother and there was nothing that I could do. I prayed and prayed that night and finally the next day I decided that I needed to take her to emergency again. Without a look at her they told me to sit. There I held my baby who had stopped crying but had resorted to constant moan. The mom next to me said that if she was called before me she would allow me to go first. She knew. 

After who knows how long I finally heard her name. As I scooped up my child I saw that her face had changed. She looked sick. One glance at her and the nurse with panic in his voice asked "has she always looked like this?" To which I replied a short "no, this happened while in the waiting room". He knew. 

In the back they called every pediatric doctor they could. They told me they'd run every test they thought of and they all came back inconclusive. It was time to call Arles and go to Calgary Children's Hospital. My body was beginning to give out and I knew that I didn't get a blessing that I wouldn't be able to handle what came next. I called my mom sobbing telling her Ayla was dying. I just knew it. She called my Uncle and in the early hours of the morning he came. I saw it in his eyes the moment he lay eyes on her, He knew. 

Texts began pouring in telling me it would be okay. That we'd all be okay. They didn't understand, the moment I set foot in that ambulance, Ayla would never come home again. Children's ran tests and it came back with the fear I had all along. Bacterial meningitis. I saw the scan and I knew that her body was seizing over and over causing more and more brain damage, By that point both sides of Ayla's family were there and although it was tense we were there for her. The doctors tried to tell me that there was a chance but they knew. 

Day after day of watching her suffer was almost too much. I was numb and I didn't know why God after everything would take her too. Why was I at 22 watching my life fall to pieces and the only person who had kept me sane was being taken too.There were prayers offered and a few people came to see us but every time someone new came into that room, as with everyone thus far; they all knew. 

The hospice was Ayla's final stop. By this point we were all just waiting and yes we had faith but the peace came that this was the way it had to be. I wouldn't ever completely understand, but this was His will. Arles' and my family stuck by us supporting in the only ways they could. How do you support children who are losing their child while also suffering in your way? That I can't tell you but what I do know is that without them, we would have lost it. Three weeks we watched her deteriorate and by the end I was tired. I begged for Ayla to be taken because now she we just a spirit trapped in a shell of a body. I couldn't stand to watch her suffer any longer and I knew part of the reason she was staying was because even in her current form, she loved us, she didn't want to leave knowing that she was leaving behind so many people who's hearts were broken. She knew, she just couldn't accept it.

Finally after a gassy night due to to meal we had, we all were laughing. She knew we'd be okay and it was time to let go. The hospice went quiet for the night and in that solstice her breathing became more jagged, her heart began to slow and things felt different. I called the nurse and she confirmed it was time. I handed Ayla over to Arles so he could say his final goodbyes and it was in his arms she took her last breath. We all felt it and aside from the temple, I have never felt God more than I did as I watched her body give up her spirit. To this day every time to go to the hospice I still feel it. It was in the hours after where I held Ayla's body as it began to turn cold that I felt that God knew. 

He knew that he was sending Ayla to save me. He knew that my prayers of asking Him to protect her would be answered in this way. He knew that for years after the pain and grief would consume me. And He knew that doing this would cause me to question if He even cares. But, despite all this, through all the pain and agony I went through watching my child suffer and die, this was why He sent Jesus Christ to die for me. He knew we all need a Saviour not only to take on our sins, but the unimaginable pain we all go through too. So I guess He always knew what the outcome would be, but He also knew that with Him I would become the person I am today. He knew that I would be sent to a husband and two beautiful girls who have pain all their own. He knew that sending my little boy would heal my soul more than anyone else and the words from my almost three year old two weeks ago "Ayla loves you" would remind me that not only does He knew me, He knows what I need. 

I guess what I"m trying to say is that life is pretty awful sometimes and there are so many moments that I don't know if He truly knows me. But God does. And even though I question it sometimes, this is something I can't deny. 

He Knows