Last night, daddy and I and bravery boy all laid in bed together. We cuddled and talked, and took a very long time saying our prayers. Bravery was relishing the attention (and daddy was relishing laying down. He picked up a nasty cold and he hasn't been able to move for two days).
I asked bravery last night, what do you think Amelie is doing in heaven right now? Very matter of factly, he stated, "Ummm, going poopoo on the potty."
ha! It did not occur to me until later that bravery said this because he picked up on all the constipation conversations we've had over the last two years. For real. constipation is NO JOKE when you have chemotherapy. It's even worse when compounded by multiple medications. And even worse, believe it or not, when unable to move. Since her diagnosis, constipation was always an issue for her. She started needing more and more help with that. She would get laxatives, stool softener's, I put coconut oil in her G-tube, anything we could do to relieve her. (Funny side note: when she was an adorable chubby baby, she would have these massive poop explosions. When she did, I'd always hear Hubbs yell out across the house, "code brown! code brown happening right now!")
The last several weeks of her life, Amelie needed to be disimpacted regularly. Can you imagine that? Being in that state of life? It's horrible. And we were always so relieved when she was able to go on her own in a diaper! We had poop parties! (No, not really, we're weirdos but not freaks. We did dance around and give high fives though, poop celebrations. I'd come home and ask, did she poop? Yes! Would garner cheers.) Clearly, Bravery understood what was going on, no surprise there because he's highly intelligent and disturbingly observant anyway, but it didn't take a genius to figure out poop was good news in our house. Gross, I know. And I hadn't thought about how relieved Amelie must be right now--no constipation in Heaven. 💩
I know what you're all thinking now, as you finish your Monday morning cup of ☕️ coffee....