The Duffy Family

A MOTHER'S HEART

Get your tissue ready.....I just have to let out a few emotions

Last night before going to bed, I was looking at a website of one of my patients at work. As many of you know, I work at St. Jude. I take care of children with cancer (primarily solid tumors such as brain tumors and other masses found in the bone, abdomen, or soft tissues, etc.) Many people say, "How can you possibly work there? Isn't it depressing?" Well, my answer is yes...and no. There are times that I am overcome with sadness because I know a child is not doing well or because I had to sit in and watch parents consent to a DNR (do not resucitate) order for their child. But then, there are other times when I see patients who are walking, talking, living life to the fullest MIRACLES! That brings so much joy. The other situation brings joy as well, just in a different way. I get to watch that child fight for life. I get to watch a family draw close to eachother and to their faith. I get to be part of that journey. I get to form a relationship with their child and love them and take care of them as if they were my own. I get to learn from that child. This happens more often than not and it makes my job very fulfilling. Back to the beginning. The particular patient whose website I was looking at was my first patient who died in my care. His mom has kept the site current which is nice. I am able to see how the family is doing since that night 1 1/2 years ago. I remember checking on him at 2:00 and then his dad coming out 10 minutes later to get me..."he's not breathing." Just like that he was gone. What do you do in a situation like that? I knew it would happen to me at some point during my career at St. Jude, but it's not something they teach you about. All I could do was listen to his chest (as we are required) and then sit down and hug and cry with his parents. You see, he was special...not just to his family, but to me. When he had first come to St. Jude, I was 6 weeks pregnant with Eli. The night he died, I was 6 months pregnant with Ella Kate. It was that night that I realized that cancer had no limits...no discriminations...it just happened. There was nothing we could do and that hurt. It hurt just as much to think "what if"....it had been one of mine. I think that mindset helps me do my job. It gives me extra compassion and and a sense of humility.

All of that to say that after I visited his site I went to bed. Just before drifting off to sleep Ella Kate began crying (unusual for her after she's gone to bed for the night). I went into her room and she looked up at me and raised her arms as if she were saying "please just hold me." I took her out of her crib and sat with her in the rocking chair. Her belly touching mine, her arms wrapped lovingly around my neck. I could feel her soft, smooth skin and smell that baby fresh scent on her. Those chubby arms and fingers, those beautiful deep blue eyes, her tiny feet...and that smile that makes my heart melt. It was all rushing through my mind in leu of what I had just been reading. How do these parents do what they have to do? Why has God spared me thusfar from the pain of losing a child...or having to even go through the pain of cancer? Just the mere thought of putting myself in those parents' shoes takes my breath away. I cannot imagine looking at my baby and wondering the thing those parents wonder. They cling to all that they have...Faith...God...the hope that their child will beat the odds.

As nurses, we find ourselves being judgmental occassionally (in our own heads or to eachother). We say things like "just let him go" or "I don't think they should put him/her through that for a few months", or "is it worth it?" But tonight, I realized something. Who am I to make that call? Sure from a medical standpoint, I can tell you what the "truth" is, but from the standpoint of "MOMMY" I don't have a clue. I am pretty sure I would do what all these parents do...fight until fighting is not an option. It's parental instinct-to want more for your children...for them to have a better life than you did. What would I do if that ability was taken from me? I don't know. Hopefully, I never will. But for now, it has given me a new perspective, and hopefully, I will be a better nurse for it!

At that moment in time, I held my baby and didn't care if she woke up for the next one hundred nights at 11:00 p.m. (or 2:00 am for that matter). I realized what a blessing she was in my life and what an amazing thing life truly is. I thank the Lord that he has chosen to keep my kids healthy. As much as I know that, I also know that tomorrow could be much different. And even if it was, it would be ok. God would still be there, still be good, still be sovereign. But for tonight, I am going to count my blessings, love my children, and continue to pray for those parents who take life one day at a time.....