What Will Matter...

Whirlwind.  That's how I'd describe my last 5 months.  A freakin' crazy whirlwind.  It started when I was 8 months pregnant and I took one of our two dogs to the vet.  I will never forget sitting in the tiny vet room bawling my eyes out, trying to compose myself as they told me that Paco had cancer.  Aggressive Cancer.  My heart broke.  Not broke...shattered.  In that moment all of my excitement that I'd had about our current life situation fizzled out.

"It's just a dog" some may say.  He wasn't.  For all intensive purposes that dog was my best friend, child and constant companion.  With me every second I let him be.  At my side all day long.  That dog taught me how to love.  LOVE LIKE JESUS.  Unconditional  love.  There was never a moment he wasn't happy to see me...that he didn't want to snuggle...that he didn't make me feel like a better person.  And frankly, I don't care if you think I'm crazy, because it's true.  That dog made me better, happier and more confident.

A few weeks later, I was put on modified bed rest.  Blah.  I'd sit at home with the pups and be bored.  I was only supposed to do one outing a day and believe me I wasn't going to waste that outing doing the dishes! ;)  Paco had been responding well to the steroid treatment and my hopes were lifting.  This whole time I'd had this picture in my head...Our perfect little family.  Mom, Dad, Baby and two adorable Golden Retrievers.  Life was going to be great.  I let myself believe Paco was going to get better -- I hoped that the doctors were wrong.  I WANTED my perfect life.

Then one day Paco came to my side and started throwing up...and couldn't stop.  He looked at me with the saddest eyes..."Help me," they said.  But I couldn't...I couldn't help him.  Despite how bad I wanted to.  We tried everything, IV's...Drugs...but in the end, Paco lost the battle to cancer and I lost the best friend I'd ever had.  And it hurt.  GOD, DID IT HURT.

Pita and I would lay on the couch all day crying.  She would go and look for him and then lay on his bed when he wasn't there.  And I would go and lay next to her and cry.  And that was how we spent our days for quite some time...My one outing didn't matter anymore.  I was too sad.  The picture I'd had in my head of what my family would look like was destroyed.  I missed my big boy.  And Pita missed him too...and here we were stuck at home on bed rest.  BLAH.

Amidst all my weekly check ups and ultrasounds, it was suggested I be induced.  I was ecstatic.  I told my midwife I couldn't sit at home for one more second being depressed.  FOUR DAYS LATER...yes, I was in the hospital with them trying to induce me for four days...but four days and some stressful, scary moments later my wonderful, sweet June Isabella Bradley arrived.  She was perfect.

I'd been so scared.  Scared for labor.  Scared for the changes that were bound to incur.  Scared that I wouldn't be a good mom.  If I'm brutally honest, I felt like I had failed Paco, I couldn't save him.  And that rattled me to my core and made me question myself.

And now fast forward 3.5 months.  Today I look at this beautiful little girl and I can't help but smile.  I still miss Paco daily...and even cry many nights when we go to bed and he's not sitting there waiting for me.  But my life is good and it is full of love.  My house on the other hand is a disaster most days....My laundry room looks like the laundry monster came and vomited all over it, our recycling pile is filling our garage because we forget to take it out and my floors haven't been swept in 3 days.

So here's where I'm going with all of this.  What will matter....This thought has been on my heart and here's what I've learned...What will matter in the end is not that Paco lost a battle with cancer...what will matter is that he was so very loved.  I think he knew that.  And as I held his head and pet him and told him over and over again, "I LOVE YOU" as he took his last breath.  What matters is not that it was his last breath, but that he knew -- undoubtedly -- that he was loved.

And when it comes to my home and my family -- I'm learning it will not matter that my house is usually messy, sometimes dirty and always chaotic, What will matter is that my daughter is happy and knows she is loved...that Pita was played with and loved on today...and that my husband and I were intentional in our time together and connected at the end of the day.  These things are what will matter and they are what DO matter to me.