When we think and I mean truly think about who we really are, we come to realize we are simply the sum of our life experiences. Our family, our faith, our work - this is what defines us. It is a delicate dance we do, trying to keep each of these things in balance .
Some people wander through life, never knowing who they really are. I learned who I was at age 27, when I sat in a quiet room with Molly, Emily and my husband; accompanied by Emily's Palliative Care Physician Sarah and a nurse named Marlene. I signed my name to a document known as a DNR, or Do Not Resuscitate order. I held my sweet Emily bravely as Marlene removed the ventilator and without a sound, my Emily passed from this world into the next. In that moment, I was defined. I am a mother, a daughter, a sister and a friend. I am a social worker, an airman, a person of deep faith but also a member of an exclusive club - a club I never wanted to be a part of...I am a bereaved parent and for a while - that is the only thing that defined me.
In our same small room, another defining moment was taking place. Marlene, the RN who was caring for Emily was re-evaluating her career. I had not known (as she sat there with us explaining what the outcome of our decision would be) that this was the first time she had been part of removing a child from life support. This was my first death, but it was also hers. Following Emily's passing Marlene stayed with us, helped us to bathe her, dress her and take pictures of us with her. As she did when Emily was born, Marlene also held Emily on the day of her death. She stayed four hours past the end of her shift to hold my lifeless daughter in her hospital room, while they waited for the funeral director arrive, so he could bring Emily back to Mansfield. This she did to honor my only wish, not to have Emily's body taken to the morgue. While these actions may seem unusual to some, you must understand - when you have only days with your child, you work to create as many memories as possible, to sustain you through your grief. Marlene understood that, helping us in immeasurable ways.
It has been nearly five and a half years since that day, and I have never forgotten Marlene's kindness. Her picture adorns my most special page of Emily's scrap book. Marlene's presence on that day seemed like such a random event at the time, but I now know it was anything but.
While volunteering at our local Children's Hospital this weekend, I was asked to page the Palliative Care Nurse Practitioner on call, because in addition to the 12 patients I was already scheduled to see, there was a critical case I may need to check in on. I was told to go to the PICU station 3 and the Nurse would be there to talk with me about the situation. When I walked around the corner, I was greeted by our Marlene! We were equally shocked and surprised to see each other. Even though it had been five years, we recalled the events of Angel Day as though it were yesterday. In listening to Marlene reflect on my daughter's life, I became acutely aware of what a tremendous impact my Emily's life has had on others. As Marlene expressed her affections for my daughter, I learned she had requested to be placed with Emily that day. I was unaware that she had cared for Emily on the day she was born, as her primary nurse in the NICU. Marlene had spent the night with Emily, holding her in my absence and gazing (as she put it) into her "expressive green eyes". Marlene laughed as she reflected on how much personality Emily showed that evening and commented that she just fell in love with her that night. It was NOT random that Marlene was with us on Angel Day - but even Marlene didn't know what the impact of her decision would be, when she requested to be with us.
As Marlene worked to ensure Emily's passing was peaceful, her actions solidified her belief that palliative care was the path she wanted to pursue in her career. Marlene enrolled in a masters program, excelled, and three years later, was hired by Emily's physician "Sarah" as the first and only CNP on the palliative care team. Marlene told me she has never been happier.
As I hugged Marlene, I expressed again how appreciative I am for everything she did for my Emily, as well as the rest of our family. We cried together as she told me again how much being with us on that day impacted her. Before we left the hospital on Angel day, Marlene had promised she would remember what happened that day. She promised she would remember our Emily forever. Her words echoed in my mind as Marlene made what seemed to be a random statement... she said "And I have never forgotten Emily. Her picture you gave me is on my mantle, as a daily reminder of why I do what I do. Thank you again for letting me part of your powerful, powerful day." What a beautiful promise she kept.
I can not begin to fathom all of the ways my Emily has impacted this world - but it makes my heart sing to know how much she is still working in the lives of others; because I still feel her working in mine. It is a reminder to me that nothing in this world is random. It may seem so at the time, but each life event is a gift, given to us to learn from. It all depends on how we choose to use it.
Some people wander through life, never knowing who they really are. I learned who I was at age 27, when I sat in a quiet room with Molly, Emily and my husband; accompanied by Emily's Palliative Care Physician Sarah and a nurse named Marlene. I signed my name to a document known as a DNR, or Do Not Resuscitate order. I held my sweet Emily bravely as Marlene removed the ventilator and without a sound, my Emily passed from this world into the next. In that moment, I was defined. I am a mother, a daughter, a sister and a friend. I am a social worker, an airman, a person of deep faith but also a member of an exclusive club - a club I never wanted to be a part of...I am a bereaved parent and for a while - that is the only thing that defined me.
In our same small room, another defining moment was taking place. Marlene, the RN who was caring for Emily was re-evaluating her career. I had not known (as she sat there with us explaining what the outcome of our decision would be) that this was the first time she had been part of removing a child from life support. This was my first death, but it was also hers. Following Emily's passing Marlene stayed with us, helped us to bathe her, dress her and take pictures of us with her. As she did when Emily was born, Marlene also held Emily on the day of her death. She stayed four hours past the end of her shift to hold my lifeless daughter in her hospital room, while they waited for the funeral director arrive, so he could bring Emily back to Mansfield. This she did to honor my only wish, not to have Emily's body taken to the morgue. While these actions may seem unusual to some, you must understand - when you have only days with your child, you work to create as many memories as possible, to sustain you through your grief. Marlene understood that, helping us in immeasurable ways.
It has been nearly five and a half years since that day, and I have never forgotten Marlene's kindness. Her picture adorns my most special page of Emily's scrap book. Marlene's presence on that day seemed like such a random event at the time, but I now know it was anything but.
While volunteering at our local Children's Hospital this weekend, I was asked to page the Palliative Care Nurse Practitioner on call, because in addition to the 12 patients I was already scheduled to see, there was a critical case I may need to check in on. I was told to go to the PICU station 3 and the Nurse would be there to talk with me about the situation. When I walked around the corner, I was greeted by our Marlene! We were equally shocked and surprised to see each other. Even though it had been five years, we recalled the events of Angel Day as though it were yesterday. In listening to Marlene reflect on my daughter's life, I became acutely aware of what a tremendous impact my Emily's life has had on others. As Marlene expressed her affections for my daughter, I learned she had requested to be placed with Emily that day. I was unaware that she had cared for Emily on the day she was born, as her primary nurse in the NICU. Marlene had spent the night with Emily, holding her in my absence and gazing (as she put it) into her "expressive green eyes". Marlene laughed as she reflected on how much personality Emily showed that evening and commented that she just fell in love with her that night. It was NOT random that Marlene was with us on Angel Day - but even Marlene didn't know what the impact of her decision would be, when she requested to be with us.
As Marlene worked to ensure Emily's passing was peaceful, her actions solidified her belief that palliative care was the path she wanted to pursue in her career. Marlene enrolled in a masters program, excelled, and three years later, was hired by Emily's physician "Sarah" as the first and only CNP on the palliative care team. Marlene told me she has never been happier.
As I hugged Marlene, I expressed again how appreciative I am for everything she did for my Emily, as well as the rest of our family. We cried together as she told me again how much being with us on that day impacted her. Before we left the hospital on Angel day, Marlene had promised she would remember what happened that day. She promised she would remember our Emily forever. Her words echoed in my mind as Marlene made what seemed to be a random statement... she said "And I have never forgotten Emily. Her picture you gave me is on my mantle, as a daily reminder of why I do what I do. Thank you again for letting me part of your powerful, powerful day." What a beautiful promise she kept.
I can not begin to fathom all of the ways my Emily has impacted this world - but it makes my heart sing to know how much she is still working in the lives of others; because I still feel her working in mine. It is a reminder to me that nothing in this world is random. It may seem so at the time, but each life event is a gift, given to us to learn from. It all depends on how we choose to use it.
1 comment:
That was beautiful Missy, thank you for sharing it.
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