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There are some things she will remember. And some things she won't.

She won't remember exactly when she got sick.
She won't remember how many times I checked her temperature and cried.
She won't remember what day it was when we rushed her into the ER.
She won't remember the name of the nurse who took her blood pressure & placed a cool sticker on her arm.
She won't remember that it was one of the scariest moments of my life, when they called me & told me to put her in the car & take her to the hospital.
She won't remember how many tears I cried while I watched her sleeping feverishly beside me, or how many times I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming every time they put a needle in her little arm.
She won't remember her daddy pacing the floor all night, shaking, aching inside. Fearing his tiny daughter might have Leukemia.

But there are some things I hope she does remember.

I hope she remembers us telling her she was going to be just fine.
I hope she remembers her daddy coming to the hospital & tickling her until the nurses thought they'd both gone insane, and that they could tell that she really loves her daddy.
I hope she remembers the games a sweet nurse brought to her, when she found out Emma loved board games.
I hope she remembers the visit from one of her favorite Nursery leaders Janae.
I hope she remembers Aunt Shelly & Uncle Ben, and the chocolate they brought her. I hope she remembers the neat book they brought, and that it's all she colored in for three days. I hope she remembers how much she cherished their trip to the cafeteria, and how they let her put whatever she wanted on her plate. I hope she remembers sitting in Shelly's lap, and holding Ben's hand.
I hope she remembers the cool train in the hospital lobby, and that if you push all four buttons, the town lights up.
I hope she remembers Grandma Wee-yu coming and bringing her special treats & gifts. I hope she remembers her Grandma holding her close and telling her she was so brave. I hope she remembers the silly drawings Uncle Tanner did on the Doctor's board, and how he replaced important medical terms with stuff like "Tanner rocks". I hope she remembers when her Papa sat down beside her in her little hospital bed, and the tears she cried when she saw him.....before she ran into his arms and he held her.
I hope she remembers all of the phone calls asking how she was.
I hope she remembers Aunt Mirranda & Uncle Brandon, and that they came from far away to see her. I hope she remembers sitting with Mirranda, and how they sang songs together. I hope she remembers Brandon making her laugh while Mirranda held her in her arms & cried, hiding her face so Emma couldn't see. I hope she remembers feeling nothing but love from them.
I hope she remembers taking long walks up and down the elevators and riding in a wheelchair.
I hope she remembers having her own red wagon all to herself.
I hope she remembers Anndalyn Hobbs and her family bringing her new shoes, and food for mommy & daddy.
I hope she remembers picking out toys from the hospital toy closet.
I hope she remembers Sharon Cummings bringing food & her constant texts telling me to update everyone on Emmie.
I hope she remembers the Bishop's family rushing over, to take care of Rowen long into the night, so we could be there with Emmie. I hope she remembers them showing up at our doorstep the night she came home, with a bouquet of flowers for her, and listening ears for us.
I hope she remembers the Doctor sitting us down, and telling us she doesn't have Leukemia.
And I hope she remembers going to her favorite place to celebrate.

I hope she remembers the love. I hope she remembers the fun stuff. I hope she remembers how brave she was.
I hope she remembers how strong she was.

Kids are fascinating creatures. They remember when things are scary. And sometimes, they even remember when things turn out okay.

And I hope she remembers that in the end, everything really was.....okay.

 
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No.

It's amazing what that word can do to someone. To me. To my poor husband. His dreams & hopes ripped to shreds by one simple word. No.

We had been waiting for the publishing house, known as Covenant Books, to tell us whether or not they were going to publish my book. Dan was so hopeful, especially since I had sat down with the Chief Editor months ago and she was extremely interested and optimistic. She urged me to submit it as soon as possible, and we did.

But just like a hopeful, thirsty desert flower stretching up toward a cloudy sky, it was in vain. No awesome word came, no good news followed by tears of joy. Just a polite, simple paragraph. And a resounding simple word. No.

I called Dan, hoping he wouldn't think I was joking when I told him my manuscript was rejected. He was sad. I was sad, too, but I knew this was coming. I just knew. Dan remained optimistic the whole time, since February, when we submitted it.  He had high hopes, which helped me have high hopes.

But I always had a bad feeling. I just didn't have the heart to tell Dan.

So, here we are. Dan is sitting at his desk at work, and I'm staring at a computer screen. I'm sure he's got his head in his hands, and I'm positive he's going over the bad news, wondering what to do next. Poor Dan. I think he's more bummed than I am. And I'm sure in twenty minutes I'll forget all about the bad news, as I change diapers & try to make it through lunch without two toddlers  killing each other over who gets the Sponge-Bob chair and better sippy cup.

Someday it will happen for us, I know it. Until then, I'll greet my sweet husband at the door when he gets home, wrap my arms around him and tell him not to be too sad. After all, this is what life is all about. This is what the Lord intended us to do. Live, have heartache, learn from it, move on. Even fall down on our faces. 
And I guess this is my turn to fall.

I'm actually quite happy. And proud.

I'm proud I wrote a book. I'm proud I have a family. I'm proud of my beautiful kids.

But mostly I'm proud of my awesome husband. 

Who loves me.

Who believes in me.

And who is sad for me, when it is my turn to fall ❤❤❤.