Hope...

Today we headed back down to children's hospital for another round of chemo and blood draws. Both David and I had some anxious anticipation because we have not been successful at getting Cooper's blood sugars down. Every day we have had to increase his insulin doses. I am sure they are doing something to help his body (I'm just not seeing it). The stress of wondering how this is affecting his body and potentially affecting how he is reacting to the chemo is starting to get to us.

Waking up to snow packed roads we left early to make sure we got there on time. We ended up getting there about 30 minutes early which allowed some extra time in the waiting room.

The waiting room in the cancer department at children's is a very interesting and often sad place to be. I found myself looking around at the other families and their kids wondering what their story was. How long have they been coming? How did they find out about their child's cancer? Do they have people supporting them? What does their day to day look like? Every once in a while another parent's gaze would meet mine and we would share a half smile. A "knowing" without having to speak. A sympathetic "me too" smile.

The admission ladies there are so great. They know many of the kids by name as they walk through the doors. I guess you really get to know these kids over their multiple years of treatment.

Sitting there, I watch a mom with her daughter, who couldn't have been older than 5, walk in. I heard her say something about her being in pre-school so I feel confident with my age analysis. The staff knew them well and greeted them in such a warm and excited way. I thought to myself, "she is way too joyful to be in this room."

We sat in the waiting room together for about 20 minutes and I kept finding my gaze going to her and her daughter, I was drawn to their energy. She was the cutest little thing with a full head of hair. When I see kids with a full head of hair in that room I wonder; are they at the beginning of their treatment? at the end of their treatment? or are they one of the lucky ones who didn't lose their hair?

We finally get called back to our room to get started with Cooper's chemo. He needed to go to the bathroom before they started so I walked with him down the hall to where it was located. We turn the corner and I see the hall lined with doctors, nurses and staff clapping and singing a little song.

And then I see her.

The VERY joyful mom and her precious daughter. Taking their final walk to ring the bell signifying the end of her cancer treatment!!

There it is. It hit me. My eyes instantly filled with tears, my heart raced just a little faster and I got a lump in my throat. I stood there waiting for Cooper to come out of the bathroom so he can get another round of chemo in his FIRST phase of treatment, while watching a family celebrate their COMPLETION of their little girl's treatment.

It was a small moment but a huge moment for me. I got to witness the hope of a successful cancer fighting journey. I got to imagine how incredible that moment will be when we get to walk our little boy down that hall and watch him ring that bell knowing he made it!

I didn't realize how much I needed that.

I needed to tangibly see some hope.

I don't know their names, I don't know their story but my spirit is rejoicing with that family! 🧡