The Day Before

This picture was taken about 2 weeks before Ashleigh died. Becky Johnson fixed her hair and put the pretty ribbons in it. After the picture was taken, Ashleigh threw up all over her beautiful dress. Janet Webster immediately rushed the dress to the cleaners. My friends knew what I wanted that dress for, and Janet told the cleaners that we needed it asap, without divulging to them the reason. Ashleigh was buried in that dress. The day after the funeral I received the picture in the mail.

I don't remember very much about Monday September 16, 1991, I really only have two significant memories of that day. But first, I'm going to back up just a bit.

Ashleigh had been on a feeding tube since July 2, which of course meant that she was in our constant care. For two and a half months I was pretty much home bound. I will write more about things that happened during this time in a later post.

The doctor (Neurosurgeon at PCMC) explained to me in July, what would happen as Ashleigh's illness progressed. One of the most important things she told me was that Ashleigh would eventually become semi-comatose and then comatose, which would indicate that her time was very close.

Twenty years ago today, I knew that the time was at hand, Ashleigh was in a comatose state. Late, on Sunday evening September 15th, Ashleigh had a fever. This was not an ordinary fever, it was one like I had never seen before. Half of her body was hot... and the other half was cold. But the real out of the ordinary was this... it wasn't a split-down-the-middle half, it was a right arm and torso/left leg, and left arm and torso/right leg half. Did that explanation make sense? I had never seen anything like it.

At about 10-ish on that Sunday night (during this fever time), my brother Tim called to tell me that my niece Megan had just been born. That was joyous news to receive amidst the turmoil we were experiencing. It is interesting the way that life unfolds, my sister-in-law Margie had spent much of the summer on bed rest waiting for baby Megan's safe birth. I on the other hand, spent the summer waiting for the opposite where Ashleigh was concerned. Megan's birth and Ashleigh's death were less than 36 hours apart. Twenty years ago, births registered in the local hospitals were printed in the local newspapers, so... Megan's birth announcement and Ashleigh's obituary were on the same page in the SL newspapers, and I still have a copy of one of those papers.

So, back to September 16th. My first memory is very simple, I'm not really sure why I'm sharing it, but I think it is somewhat significant. I simply went to the grocery store. It was late in the afternoon, I don't know what I purchased, I don't know who was at home with Ashleigh, I just remember going to the store and being away from my "present" world for just a few moments. I was exhausted. Worn down. My strength was almost gone. I knew it and I felt it. I felt alone. I don't think I looked very well. You can see a lot by looking into someones eyes.

My second memory is very tender and heartbreaking. You may not want to continue reading. Later that evening my parents came to visit. My parents are amazing people. They love their family un-conditionally and they take good care of all of us, and that night I needed them (I still need them).

I was sitting on the couch, holding Ashleigh who was cradled in my arms. My dad sat on one side of me and my mom on the other, and they each had their arms tightly around me. There is something comforting about being in the arms of your parents, even when you are 33 years old. My parents hurt; they hurt for their baby girl, just as I hurt for my baby girl. I had been pretty brave throughout the past 13 months, but I cried as I sat there, safe in my parents arms. I'm crying as I write this, because I will never forget my anguished sob as I said to them, "I'm the one she wants." And of course they agreed, she didn't want to leave me, she loved me. But someone else wanted Ashleigh. Someone who loved her so much. Someone whose pain far surpassed mine, and made it possible for me to bear this pain.

The Summer of 1990

The summer of 1990 got off to a great start with a brief trip to Northern California to visit extended family. Uncle Derek and Auntie Dorothy were visiting from England and were there with us. We had a memorable trip to Whiskey Town Lake where the boys played with 2nd cousins and we sailed in Uncle John's sailboat, we had jet ski rides and Mike and Uncle Derek swam across the lake to an island (they seriously did) and then back.

Back at home we purchased a family pass for the local swimming pool, the kids played with friends, we had bbq's, dutch oven cookouts, family gatherings... life was good. Nothing seemed to be to out of the ordinary while we were living in the moment, but by the end of the summer as I looked back, I could recognize the symptoms that had slowly appeared as the summer months advanced.

For example, one day while enjoying an afternoon at the pool, Ashleigh suddenly threw up on the deck. She wasn't sick; there was absolutely no explanation why she did that. She also had a few uncharacteristic moments of bad temper. I remember one evening in particular, Mike had to drive to Logan for a late night "store set" and wanted me to go with him for the ride. Andy had become a reliable baby-sitter, so we knew we could put Ashleigh to bed and the boys would be fine. But she knew we were leaving and she had a tantrum of sorts. We couldn't figure it out... it wasn't like her at all. But perhaps the biggest thing that caught our attention happened in August, when one day her left eye began to turn inward.

I was immediately concerned, you see... I have worn glasses since before my second birthday. I had experienced the "four-eyes" and the "big-eyes" name calling throughout my elementary school years and this was not on my agenda for my daughter. We scheduled an appointment with the eye doctor for Monday, August 13.

Mike and I took Ashleigh to the eye Doctor that day, and upon examination the Doctor determined that she would need glasses. I was sitting in the chair and Ashleigh was sitting on my lap throughout the exam. When he made the diagnosis I immediately felt the emotion rising to the surface, and I knew that I needed to get out of there... fast. But it wasn't fast enough. I was humiliated and ashamed that I hadn't been able to hold back the tears. As we drove home I asked Mike to take me to my mother's, I knew that my mom would understand exactly how I felt, after all, she had experienced the same thing with me.

I remember walking up the stairs to my moms living room and into her arms, where I sobbed out my sorrow that Ashleigh was going to have to wear glasses. Of course my mom talked me through it with a smile and a positive outlook, but it was what she said as I left that left a profound impact on me... she hugged me tight and spoke softly into my ear, "I'm just grateful that it's not something worse."

Three days later... it was much, much worse.

The Bracelet

Today is my granddaughter Jane's first birthday... this post is written especially for her, but anyone else that would like to, is welcome to read it.

In June of 1979, my dad went home to England for the first time since he'd come to America in June of 1962. At the time I was expecting my second baby... Jane's daddy. My mother had asked dad if he would buy a silver baby bracelet, or bangle as the British called it, just in case the baby was a girl. Dad fulfilled moms wishes and brought home a beautiful little bracelet... when my baby boy, Jeffrey, arrived in November, the little silver bracelet was tucked away for safe keeping.

Nearly four years after Jeffrey was born, my third son Jeremy was born, and the bracelet was still kept tucked away for another day.

There where more trips to Britain and more bracelets purchased for other baby girls, but still... my baby girls bracelet was safely kept.

At some point during the years between Jeff's and Jeremy's births, I started to pray for a baby girl. It wasn't in every single prayer, every single day... I just started to mention it. Some time after Jeremy was born, it became more frequent. I was only planning to have one more baby, so as I prayed I gave the Lord some very good reasons why he should send me a daughter. Now, I have to say right here that I.LOVE.MY.SONS but I also wanted the joy of raising a daughter. When I discovered that I was pregnant with my fourth child, I stopped praying for a girl, now I would have to wait and see.

A few months before the birth of the baby, my mother unexpectedly gave me the bracelet. I was caught off guard and it was kind of emotional for me. I took the bracelet home and placed it in a significant spot on my dresser, where it remained until the babies birth.

The night before I was to be induced, I took the bracelet and tucked it safely away. I explained to Mike that if the baby was a girl he was to bring it to the hospital, but if the baby was a boy... the bracelet would remain tucked away.

I will share the story of Ashleigh's birth in another post... but we all know that I took a beautiful baby girl, wearing a silver bracelet on her wrist, home from the hospital. She wore that bracelet almost every day until she grew out of it.

I have kept this bracelet safely tucked away for twenty-three years. I made a decision several years ago, that the bracelet would go to a granddaughter named after Ashleigh. Which brings me to August 2, 2010.

We knew that Jeff and Melissa were going to have a baby girl. They had two names picked out for quite some time, and not long before the birth, they had added a third name. I saw the baby within an hour after her birth, and they were back to the two original names and were un-decided.

I took Miss Avery home with me, and as soon as Mike got home from work we headed back to the hospital to see mommy and sister (as Avery calls her). I called Jeff to ask him what Melissa's room number was and he said, "do you want to know the baby's name?" Of course I did. He simply said, "Jane Ashleigh." I was speechless, in fact, when I finally did speak I said a dorky thing... "I haven't heard that one before." Meaning of course, that they had never mentioned it, and that is because the inspiration came to them after Jane was born. When I got off the phone and I told Mike the babies name... we cried all the way to the hospital.

It's a funny thing, that little silver bracelet. All those years, looking at it, tucking it away, wishing and hoping... and praying (I think it's interesting that the bracelet now belongs to the daughter of the baby it was originally intended for). It really is just a thing... but to me it is a symbol of a righteous desire of my heart, something I had fervently asked for, and that prayer was answered in the way I wanted, and I know it beyond any doubt.

Last year on Jane Ashleigh's blessing day, she was beautiful, dressed in the sweetest white dress with flecks of silver... and on her tiny wrist was the bracelet. My heart was overcome with emotion as I saw it. After she was given her name and a blessing, Melissa turned to me and placed Jane in my arms; as I held her my heart was filled with joy and gratitude... for this beautiful baby girl, and answers to prayers.

Ashleigh Ann

Jane Ashleigh