Another Lesson to be Learned

I am trying to be grateful for everything that has come our way in the midst of this journey. I am grateful to be so near to Boston, I am grateful for all of the amazing family and friends we have, I am grateful that we had an echo that caught Annie's condition before it had progressed ... honestly, the list is very long. It is full of the things I have learned about people -- close friends, acquaintances, and even people we have not met personally -- and their ability to reach out and support us in this awful time. The strength of family tops that list, but my gratitude for them has been so profound as to defy words or description.

I have learned another lesson, this one a bit more difficult. I am still feeling raw and shaky from this lesson, so please forgive me if I babble or don't make much sense. Not all lessons are positive in their nature, but I will try to take something good from this lesson, too. We are trying so hard to stay positive and not get swallowed up in the overwhelming fear and worry that sits on our shoulders night and day. The fear and worry that I know most people can only imagine -- and trust me, from being on the other side with our healthy Jamie, you can never imagine exactly how overwhelming it is until you are faced with it. Focusing on being grateful for all of the wonderful people that we have in our lives has been my saving grace, without a doubt.

I am sad to say that I have removed the comments from our blog because we received a venomous comment intended only to hurt us and shame us and make us feel bad. This comment came from an immediate family member, believe it or not. I won't give the comment any credence by going into what was said (and it was lengthy), but suffice to say that the intent was to hurt us and make sure everyone knew we had overlooked thanking someone and somehow hadn't conducted ourselves in a way that the commenter felt was appropriate. I woke up early this morning to get Annie fed and get her 7am medications gathered, but checked my e-mail as I was getting everything ready. The comment was sitting in my inbox, waiting to greet me and start off my day not just with Annie's-please-keep-her-from-going-into-cardiac-failure medications, but with the hate and venom of someone who claimed -- in the same comment -- to be there for us.

I have spent a lot of my life being incredibly self-centered and incredibly selfish, full of my own worries, concerns, and grievances ... just buried in my own head so much that I often didn't see (or never saw) things from anyone else's perspective. I have worked very hard to change and can say, honestly, that I work on it every day. I know that I haven't gotten there by any means, but it's a work in progress and I'm proud to at least be aware and working on it. So the lesson from this comment is a good one and one that I am working on being grateful for. Seeing someone else's selfishness in the perspective of what we are going through and what we are dealing with IS the lesson. When I tamp down the anger a bit I can feel sorry for this person and the personal misery and hate that must live in them. I hope, as the anger wears off some, that I can focus on that and realize that this person must be an incredibly unhappy person who is so wrapped up in their own unhappiness that they can only live their life selfishly. I hope I can get to the point where I just wish this person well.

So, that was a long, somewhat cathartic way of explaining why the comments have been removed from public view. If I figure out how to remove that one comment, I'll be happy to get the comments back up so that everyone can see what wonderful, amazing people are thinking about and praying for Annie. PLEASE, PLEASE continue to send comments -- they will still come into my e-mail, and we absolutely love seeing who is catching up on Annie, smiling at her photos, and thinking about us as we go down this road. And thank you, everyone, for your continued support and unselfishness in being there for all of us.

(The photos are of Annie the day we got home from the hospital wearing some awesome shoes from my sister Lori, and Jamie painting the girls' new playroom. I thought they would add something to a message that isn't much fun otherwise!)