I honestly don’t know how, but Alex is still hanging on. She’s been so close to the edge all night long. Drew and I have taken turns getting quick naps. We all stay together in the living room and the naps come more because we can’t hold our heads up or eyes open any longer. Neither of us want to miss spending these moments with Alex or risk being even so far away as down the hall from her.
She is resting comfortably with all the medications. Her color has very much changed and her respirations are coming very quick and very shallow. She still has the rattle sound to her breathing. I don’t particularly understand why, but she is burning hot. I suppose this could be infection or it could just be one of the weird things that happens when the body is dying. I don’t know, but it isn’t really important to at this point. We have each taken turns holding her and then letting her lay on the couch for periods of time.
This process of dying is so peculiar. Our hours and days are running together and feeling muddled. I think that we are both to the point of physical & emotional exhaustion and not knowing what to do. We’ve said our goodbyes over and over, reassured Alex of how much we love her, talked to her about “normal” things & also about heaven and we’ve cried more tears than I can count. What do we do now and how can this carry on much longer? When the moment finally comes, I know that there will be more tears and indescribable emotions. We will be thankful for every single second that we had with Alex, but I do believe that we will also be thankful to know that she is finally experiencing the ultimate and unimaginable peace of God.