Hannah's 17th Birthday - Ten Years Later

This post is #117 in a year-long series ... Through this series of posts I plan to share our family's experiences during our 17-year-old daughter's year-long battle with brain cancer, which began in February of 2008. My desire is to process through the events of that year from the perspective that a decade of time has brought ... for myself, really. But if you'd like to follow along, you're welcome to join me.

October 22, 2008

October 22, 1991 was a day that Brad and I had been anticipating with great excitement ... the day we would meet this little beauty for the first time. She was a planned induction, so I knew when I woke up that Tuesday morning (Did I really sleep the night before? I don't think so!) I would finally get to hold our firstborn child in my arms. To add to the anticipation, we did not know if this baby was going to be a girl or a boy ... something almost unheard of these days!

I remember the doctor exclaiming, "It's a girl!" Such a joy flooded my soul. I had only brothers growing up.  I knew nothing about raising girls ... but I was thrilled, nonetheless.

From that day on, October 22nd was a day to look forward to. Carefully selecting birthday presents, lovingly wrapping them, anticipating Hannah's excitement as she opened them. Choosing a theme for her birthday party, making (or usually buying, ha!) her a cake, sending invitations to her friends. Watching her grow from a baby to a toddler, a toddler to a child, a child to an awkward pre-teen, an awkward pre-teen to a beautiful young lady. October 22nd was a joyful mile marker, a date to celebrate another year of our precious girl's life.

October 22, 2008 was a little different. Hannah's 17th birthday came around just three weeks after we found out that her cancer had returned with a vengeance. Three weeks after her doctor, with tears in his eyes, told us that she had less than a five percent chance of survival. And three days after she lost every strand of her beautiful, thick, curly hair.  How do you celebrate your child's birthday, knowing that unless God does a miracle, it will be her last?  Of course, we knew that God could heal her at any time, but we also knew that in His omniscience, He may choose not to.

What kind of birthday gifts do you get for a teenager who is not expected to live? And how do you "celebrate" a birthday in that situation?  With God's help, and the support of wonderful family and friends who made her birthday special, we managed to do just that.

Radiation treatments don't take a break for birthdays, so the first order of the day was a trip to CARTI.  The staff there was wonderful, and they gave her a little party in honor of her birthday, which was so kind of them.  Still not a very fun way to spend your birthday.

We had a wonderful surprise late that afternoon when a group of Hannah's friends showed up at our house bearing gifts ... a brand new digital camera with all the accessories.  A group of her classmates had gone in together and collected money for these gifts, and that made them so special.  It was also the first time her friends saw her in her wig, and they all seemed very comfortable with it, and I know Hannah was relived.

Our gift to her that year was a new black and white bedding set.  She had seen this set at Kohl's and had requested it for her birthday.  It looked beautiful with her brick red walls and she loved it!

She also received dozens of emails, text messages, phone calls, cards, Facebook messages, etc.  I'm so glad she got to experience so much love on her last earthly birthday.

Her Facebook status from ten years ago today -- "Hannah wants to thank everyone for the birthday wishes!  Having a good day!"

Sigh.

Is it still painful, after the tenth time, to celebrate Hannah's birthday without her?  Oh, yes. Although it's easier to cope with now, the grief still threatens to overwhelm at times. I wish I could explain how every fiber of our family's life is different now ... how every detail, every moment, every breath is fundamentally different from what it once was. I think it's something only another mom or dad who's lost a child can understand. Or any child who's lost a sibling.

In our limited human minds, things are not as they "should be." Both of our girls should be here with us, and we should be watching them both grow into adulthood. My relationship with 27-year-old Hannah should be transformed now from mother/daughter to best friends. Bethany should be sharing secrets with her older sister, and benefiting from her experience and guidance. Her dad should be making plans to walk her down a rose-petal strewn aisle, instead of kneeling down at her rose-petal strewn grave.

But in God's eyes, all is exactly as it "should be." Before Hannah was born, He knew exactly how many days she would live. She didn't live one day more or one day less than she should have. His purpose for her life was completed in the number of days He gave her. And while we would have chosen for her to live many, many more days, that was not in His perfect plan.

And one day, Jesus will return, and all will finally be as it "should be." There will be no more grief, no more pain, no more cancer, no more suffering, no more sin, no more tears. And what a day that will be! Even so, Lord Jesus, come!

"My frame was not hidden from You, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them." Psalm 139:15-16