A year ago, already.

If you were to peer into my life, one year ago at this very moment, you would find me and my family at a strange hotel, in a strange town, without Ashton. You would see me tossing and turning in a queen bed, next to Cassidy, trying my hardest to get to sleep, knowing there was no way on earth it would happen. When I woke the morning of November 12th, 2008, I had no idea in the world the way things were going to turn that day. I would never had believed you if you told me Ashton would be spending the night in the PICU at Lucille Packard, in a medicated Coma, away from us all for the very first time. When I think back to that horrible night, I feel a huge sense of sadness and coldness. I remember being so cold. I believe I was in shock. Dealing with the news that your baby has a brain tumor and he would need brain surgery in the next few days, hadn't sunk in quite yet. I remember the nice male nurse who told us he would be watching Ashton all night long. He said we could call him anytime during the night, that he would let us know how Ashton was doing. We did call, I think Pat called twice. I remember getting in the car in the parking lot and seeing his car seat, empty. I remember looking in the bag I had been carrying the whole time and finding his tiny shoes. His van slip on's with dragons on them. And then there was the shirt I had dressed him in that morning, only it was now cut from neck to hem to allow emergency medical personnel access to his chest. I still have it, its heartbreaking to look at. All this stands out so clear in my memory and I still feel the emptiness even now. As I tossed and turned that first night, I knew there was no way sleep would come. I crept out of bed to not wake anyone, and shut myself in the bathroom and just cried. The tears wouldn't stop. I did end up waking everyone, but it was no matter. A small while later, we got a call from the hospital saying they were going operate on Ashton in a half hour and to leave right away. This was strange because initially they told us the surgery would be in a few days, but we found out later that his blood pressure was dropping and he needed surgery right then. We got lost on the way, our hotel was a good 15 minutes from the hospital, and we barely made it in time to give him a kiss before he went into the operating room. I remember just wanting him to be awake so badly so I could comfort him. At this point, even with the horrible news of the tumor, I still was holding out hope it was benign. It wasn't until during the surgery, one of the doctors came out to talk and told us the MRI he had had the night before showed a few more lesions in the brain and spine and that it was cancer. The bad news just kept coming. Those couches on the second floor, the ones to the right of the elevators, they were my families compound for the next few days. You parents who have children treated at LPCH probably know exactly which ones I'm talking about. I don't think I sat up much that day or the next. Thank god for the couches, I remember having a pillow from a nurse and blankets and just camping out there during the day. There were a lot of tears. But, there was a lot of laughter too. Family and friends came to be by my side. I remember a few friends in particular who traveled quite far to be with me...I will never forget how just them being there made things so much easier. The way people came together was amazing. Thank you you guys....you all know who you are. A few days went by, Ashton's surgery went great, and they were ready to wake him up. That was another day I will always remember. Before they woke him, the nurses decided to shave the rest of his hair off. The doctors had only shaved the area needed for the incision, but it made him look strange. These nurses were so sweet, they even offered to cut Carter's hair, which was very long at the time, but he wanted none of that! I still have a bag of Ashtons blond hair. I had a feeling it would be a while before it would be that long again, and I was right. Ashton woke slowly, they had to lower the breathing machine gradually so his body would take breaths on his own. He did wonderfully. His whole recovery was amazing. A couple of months ago, during one of our chemo admits, I ran into the man who helped us the first frantic night we came in to the hospital. He was the one who took us back to see Ashton, and set us up in a hotel. He told me that he kept up with Ashton's progress as much as he could. He said from what he saw, Ashton has done an incredible job. He really and truly is a strong boy. That really made my day.

So, a year ago, right now, I was feeling very lost. But now, as I hear Ashton's sleepy breathing I am comforted. He is here, he is happy, and he is strong. And that is why every November 12th we will celebrate. This whole experience has given us a new appreciation that I hope, actually I know, others have learned from us as well. We need to cherish our children and our families. You never know one day to the next what will happen and people can be taken from us in the blink of an eye.