The Editor

Read Ethan's blog below first.

I love the fact the Ethan thinks of me as his "Senior Editor." He wants to make sure that anything he types, especially late at night, is okay and sounds right. Usually I am just pointing out sentences that are missing a verb, but tonight I told him that his thought process seemed to end rather quickly in his "To Blog" post. He said that is just where he ended, he didn't know what else to say. That of course led me to want to leave a thought ... or two.

Why did Ethan not have an emotional reaction? What would mine have been? We have discussed several times how blessed we are that God took Noah so quickly. Yes, I would have loved one more day, one more week with him, but it would have only made letting him go harder. I belive that God used Noah on this Earth long enough to serve his purpose, and then he quickly called him home. He was here long enough for all of us to know him, love him, but short enough to let him go. I still feel a peace, a peace that surpasses ALL understanding. Why does seeing a tiny baby not make me fall apart? It is the peace of God. However, seeing older boys hits me a little harder. As we were leaving the house today, I saw a young boy, maybe 7, riding his bike. I told Ethan, THAT is hard for me to see. I saw Noah as a baby, I even held him, but I will never see him as a toddler or grow up and learn to ride his bike. That reminds me more of what I have lost, and what I will never have with Noah.

A week later, I have realized that few of you probably know the miracle of Noah's death. Is that an oxymoron? To prove that God took him home quickly when his work was done, let me tell you a few details. The 6 days that Noah spent at TX Children's, he seemed to only get better. His lungs were clearing up, eventually breathing on his own, and increasing in movements. He had always had a steady heartbeat and high oxygenation (87-100 out of 100). Meaning his body was getting enough oxygen. Even Tuesday before he died, he seemed stable. His heartrate started to rise from 140s up to 170s, but nothing anyone was too worried about. Wednesday was a different story. It started with a phone call saying he seemed to be getting an infection and they wanted to put him on some antibotics, and it all ended 8 hours later. When I went to see Noah about noon, I could immediately tell something was wrong. He was pale, the beds of his nails blue (from lack of oxygen) and his stats were just off. Heartbeat up to 180s, oxygenation in the 80s. The nurses had him on antibotics for an infection, which turned out to be pneumonia, and had put him back on a respirator at full throddle. He went from a respirator to help him breath to a ventilator to completely breathe for him. We were basically waiting for Ethan to get to the hospital to make our final decision about his life. The miraculous part of his death was how quickly it came. His doctor had said he assumed that Noah would eventually die of something similar to this, pneumonia, but not until much later - 6 months or even 2 or 3 years. His nurse that day told me, when she came in that morning she never would have thought he would die that day. All signs to me that God just took him home.

I think that the details of his life make letting him go easier. He was always God's child on a loan to me. This world was not his home, and he just passed through quicker than most of us. And I WILL see him again one day. 2 Peter says that with the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. That comforts me because what may seem like a thousand years to me on Earth is only a day with the Lord, and only a day for Noah. He will only wait one short day for his Mommy to hold him again in Heaven. And if a thousand years is only a day, imagine how many "days" there will be for me to hold him. Right now I am just practicing patience.