I remember when I was four or five and I learned about death and really grasped the fact that people, animals, and living things don't come back after they DIE. I remember being so sad and scared that my parents would die. I cried a lot when I learned about death. My parents reassured me they weren't dying but I always wondered what if? And even though we were raised Catholic and had faith of an everlasting life, the mortal life loss seemed very huge to me.
Fast forward to now-
Ainsley has survived great trauma. She is like a war veteran now and is starting to have flashbacks. She even is like a drug addict having withdrawals from major opiates & benzos.
So not only do we deal with leukemia, we deal with the rest of the story.
As I type this, I just heard my sweet baby say "No, no, no, I don't want to die. I don't want to die."
No mother wants to hear her child say this, let alone be dreaming of this and having flashbacks.
Yesterday for 18 hours she had massive withdrawal symptoms. There were two hours where she wasn't wringing her hands and moaning. The rest was torture for me.
And even worse for her.
Last night around 2am she finally slept. Then woke up with an explosive poop then slept again, then toxic waste spill poop, then slept again. She is still sleeping off and on at 11am.
Peacefully and traumatically sleeping.