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Robin
I have a dream of a little girl playing with Win, my wife, under a tree.
Her name is Robin, Robin Elizabeth Marsh. She was a child we
wanted so very much. She was a child we hoped for so very much. She
was born with an unexpected heart problem (we had specifically asked for
problems like that to be looked for on the ultrasounds), but the doctor caught
it well before there were any complications. She had to have a dangerous
surgery, but she survived it and was thriving.
She had just learned to smile -- real smiles, the kind a baby wants
to get out, but is still learning to get the face to produce. Caring
for her was a struggle, but we had rearranged our lives around her -- we
wanted her so much. This time it was going to work out, we were going
to have healing and renewal in our lives, after such long trial and trouble.
Then she died in her sleep, without any warning at all.
I've collected this material for everyone who had questions. So many
people know us. Win and I serve on state and local boards, she spoke
to about three thousand women at a conference this summer -- and they
could all see she was very pregnant, and we told everyone about this miracle
baby to be.
There is a FAQ I prepared to let people know how
things were going during the surgeries and such and my
Journal entries (or some of them) about how things
have been since.
I still dream of a little girl playing under a tree.
We only part to meet again
Though mighty boundless waves may sever
Remembrance oft shall bring thee near
And I will with thee go forever
And oft at midnights silent hour
When brilliant planets shall guide the ocean
Thy name shall rise to heaven's highest star
And mingle with my soul's devotion
[attributed to Edgar Allen Poe] |
