January 17th

Journal entry by Ann — Jan 18, 2018
As I awoke on this day the weight of what had happened settled in. Still Thinking it couldn’t be true I got out of bed to a house of silence. As I showered I wept with sobs that wracked my whole body. I pleaded with God to spare my son. I begged Him not to use this to draw me into Him. My head confirmed what my heart was feeling and I knew I wasn’t going to get to take Logan home and I had to accept it. I gave him over to God with sorrow, but also with peace knowing our Father was waiting with open arms for the son I so dearly loved. After all he was God’s not mine. Logan was on loan to me until it was time to go to his Heavenly home.
While I tried to get ready to go to the hospital I listened to worship music praising and thanking God for His love and goodness. This became my daily routine.
We all went down to the hospital. We hugged Scott, they saw Logan, and we met with the doctor who tried to explain what was happening in the softest way to my girls. He then left the room, we cried and hugged, and talked. My heart was devastated seeing my girls in so much pain. Knowing this mama couldn’t do anything except hug them and wipe their tears away. It wasn’t enough. I wanted to take it all on me and spare them this trauma.
We spent the day at the hospital together and hugging everyone that came to support us. It was so strange and never felt fully real. I felt like we must be here for someone else. We found ourselves comforting those that came even though they were there to love on us.
Scott went home late that evening and I stayed at the hospital. It was my turn to stand beside Logan praying and hoping for a different result. I could hardly bare the thought of my boy just laying there not being able to move or talk to me.
The first days the facial twitching was so much it was difficult to bring myself to look at his face. It made me feel like he was stressed and in unrest. We would find out later that the doctor thought it was his brain disconnecting because it was dying. I rubbed his legs and arms even though I was told he couldn’t feel it and wouldn’t even know. But I needed to touch him and I felt annoyed, how do they know what he might hear or feel. I talked and prayed in his ear. I played him worship music. I even rubbed his feet and if you know me I would never touch anyone’s foot willingly!
I welcomed people, prayed, hugged, but couldn’t cry. I would find I was only able to really let go when I was at home.
The ER trauma doctor came up to see how Logan was doing and chat with us. He was very kind and thoughtfully spoke. You could tell he had a way with words, but they were carefully chosen.
After midnight I laid down to rest, but only moments of sleep came. I watched the staff take care of him with such kindness. I would listen to them talk to him and explain what they were doing like he was well and might respond. They seemed to behave like this was normal. This was no normal that I wanted to be experiencing. I would then get caught up in the sound of his breathing. For just a moment it would sound as if he was making this happen on his own then the machine would make a sound and the breaths would sound forced. Then a heaviness would weigh on my heart that I had never felt before again and again I couldn’t bare it. I had to get up and go for a walk. Walking those halls became my normal.
Though I never gave up hope that God could change all this if it was His plan. After all He is bigger than all this and He would have only had to think him healed and it would have been done. I had full faith that my God could do this. It seemed He had a different plan than mine.

Love and hugs, Ann