Day 4 of Hospice
Today was a Monday. It would be the last Monday you would be alive past 1:08pm. Today there is one of my favorite pictures that aba must have taken early in the morning of you and me sleeping together. I also took a ton of selfies of us today. Today I was convinced to celebrate your 5th birthday. I had been ignoring the suggestion for a few days, but then your friend Emma and your friendship circle family planned it all so really we just would have to be in the house, so I obliged. That stupid pink shirt with five written across it that I received a week and a day ago when I allowed myself to believe you would be turning 5 was taunting me on my desk. I guess it turned out to be a premonition and not just one of those fearful dreams when last January I dreamt I ordered you your birthday shirt and you ended up dying.
You had more special visitors today. You were certainly so well-loved, that I know for sure. I didn't really want to celebrate you turning an age you weren't really going to be, but you appeared to enjoy it, so maybe it was the right choice. I only invited your bestie Corrinne, and on short notice, but she popped right on over and in a perfect sequin red shirt no less. It was as incredible of a birthday party that could have been considering everyone knew you weren't officially going to be turning 5. We have video and pictures galore, I have 2 albums from it and an entire video. I haven't looked at them, and I can't watch the video. I don't really need to because I remember it like it just happened, and I don't want to because it is just too hard.
I couldn't bring myself to put that dumb pink shirt on you, so Nurse Paige did it for me. Seeing you wear it was hard enough, I just couldn't dress you in it myself. Your sisters sang "a million dreams" and everyone went through every emotion possible. I took a good amount of time looking around at everyone during the entire time. There were sad tears, happy tears, smiles, laughter, you name it, it happened in that room. Singing, dancing, everything. We had a huge red 5 balloon, but we never got to take your 5-year pictures I had been planning in my head. You had bouts of being awake between closing your eyes to rest, and everyone there took pictures with you.
Today marked a week of your feeds being turned off. Every day you didn't have actual feeds was another day I was in pure shock and awe. You looked so much healthier than you had a week ago. You had more energy than you had in days. You were almost yourself. Today was the first of a few days over the last week of your life that my mind would tell me you were getting better, that you weren't actually dying. Then I would remember you were perfectly content not eating and you were living off of just Pedialyte at way too low of a rate to actually sustain you. I think those moments of reality were the worst slap in the face. The mind games were so so hard to combat.
Overall, today can be rated as a decent day. Tomorrow would turn out to be a heavy heavy day.