As we continue to complete treatment after treatment, I feel exhausted and hopeless at times, but I find myself not allowing myself to stay in that state for long. Even though this is a hard trial at this time in our lives as a family, and especially for Gabi, I know it won't burden her forever. We have been blessed in so many ways with Gabi, and with her recovery. There are still many conditions, and diseases that cannot be cured by medicine, and some that cannot be cured or healed on this Earth or in this life. Gabi has been blessed with this "happy" challenge, a curable form of a venous malformation. Gabi has been blessed with an amazing personality and testimony in her purpose in this life. She continues to love life, to see the good in all, and to have faith in her parents, and doctors, and especially in her brother Jesus Christ. To be able to express the courage and strength she has I will mention some experiences that we have had with her. We began these treatments when she was only 8 months old. She was a baby; a nursing, happy, chubby, baby. After her first treatment I lost my milk because she couldn't nurse for 48 hours. I tried pumping, but to no avail. I felt horrible that I couldn't give her that comfort and that necessary nourishment. It was a hard time for Ben and I as we considered whether this was worth the pain and sadness we felt we were causing an innocent, vulnerable, and trusting child at such a young age. Through much prayer and tears we knew there was no other way. The risks were too great if we left her birthmark untreated. As we took her to treatment after treatment we felt like we were tricking her, she trusted us with everything as we were her parents, and each time she would come into recovery I felt like I was lying to her. I didn't want to say anything about the treatments, just show up pretend nothing was going to happen and then I would go into recovery mode to help her heal as quickly and as comfortably as possible as soon as she was out of surgery. What has always amazed me is that she has never once been angry or upset at Ben or I for taking her. I know that our children understand that we as parents truly are doing our best to protect them and to love them with everything that we are. As Gabi started getting older and being able to catch the pattern of what happens when we go to Colorado, what happens when we stay at the specific hotel, what happens when we wake her early in the morning, what happens when we take the very quiet drive in the dark to the hotel, what happens when she is surrounded by nurses and doctors, what happens when we go into the cold room, what happens when she awakes in pain and confusion in recovery, she began to understand that this isn't going away. She has always been a very cheerful and excited child and I know she was born with her spirit to comfort us and to give us strength to endure this trial with her. As we would make these drives to the hospital in the early morning hours when she was about 18moths-2yrs, I would sit next to her in the back seat as I always do. One specific time I remember looking at her, holding her hand telling her that I loved her and that this would soon be over. I remember looking into those toddler eyes in the moonlight seeing tears dripping off her tiny cheeks. There was no whimpering, or crying, she wasn't squeezing my hand, or looking scared or angry, just tears running down those little cheeks. The strength it must take an adult to understand to to react in that way in a similar situation would be hard. But to be the parent watching your baby was unimaginable. I know that she has her angels with her, I know that with little children the veil is so thin, I know that she understands in some depth of her soul her purpose and her trial that she has accepted for this life. She is a testimony to our family of patience, long-suffering, faith, hope, and enduring faithfully to the end. I know that we have only finished the twenty-first treatment and we have no knowledge of the end yet, but with Gabi's strength and example to us we will finish and be done one day. At that day I know that I will be able to look back and see how much we have grown through each and every treatment, and each and every trial that has come with it.
And in the end our courageous and silly Gabrielle will be there, still smiling, still enjoying every minute of her exciting life.
