Play Date

Eleanor had a special play date today.

We were cuddling in bed, getting ready for a nap when Elaine, her attending physician came in. We were chatting about TPN and feeds and continuous ondansetron (the usual) when "Pop Goes The Weasel" started spontaneously playing. Elaine frowned at where the sound was coming from.

"Is that a cell phone?"

"No. It's that ladybug toy. Kris brought it in from the playroom this morning. Apparently Eleanor likes it."

Apparently someone else liked it, too.

Elaine regarded me with careful eyes. "Are you frightened?"

Tears were prickling in my eyes. I looked up to stop them from falling only to see the Snoopy balloon that Camara and Anaya gave Eleanor on Saturday.

"I'm scared of everything. A baby died this weekend, and I know Eleanor is on a different path, but I still get scared. I went down to ICU to see her before she went, and it was really hard. I hadn't been down there since Eleanor was touch-and-go and I didn't like it."

"Hmmm. It's almost like post-traumatic stress..."

Elaine was cut off by the endocrine team coming in to do their daily check-in. Yes, steroids. I know, she looks great. Testosterone levels. DHEAS levels. Positive, positive, positive. Kris entered and jumped into the conversation. Emotion and reflection started to ooze into the room when once again...

All around the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel...


Elaine picked up the toy. "I'll put this away" and she disappeared from the room with the happy melody following her.

I've spoken of these toys before and how they spontaneously come to life. This is the third time it has happened and they spook me because they always happen after someone dies and they are all toys Eleanor likes. While I love the idea of baby ghosts sticking around like little guardian angels watching over the kids in treatment, there is another part of me that wonders why they seem to be focused on Eleanor. I feel like  they are paving the way for her, showing her the ropes. And I don't like that. I don't like thinking that Eleanor will be one of these cherubs running amok in the playroom. I want her here, with me, alive, in the flesh for all time.

Of course, it is entirely probable that these are chance occurrences of faulty toys and it is nothing out of the ordinary.

Or...

Or maybe baby Anaya toddled her way into our room, climbed up on the lazy boy and started pressing buttons on the ladybug toy. Maybe she wanted to come say hi and play like a regular toddler. Maybe she slid off the leather seat and ran after Elaine into the playroom where she could play with the trains on the train tracks, or push a baby doll in a baby doll stroller, or pour water in the waterwheel and watch it spin...

I don't know. I don't know how these spirits work. I don't know if it is one specific person, or if it is just energy or what. I do know they are friendly and respectful. If they stand too close, you can ask them to move, and they will give you room. And I know that it hurts my heart so much. I shouldn't be afraid, I shouldn't be sad, especially for Anaya. I hope wherever she is, she is happy. I hope she is completely pain free and knows how many lives she touched. I hope she knows how much she has helped me on this journey. I hope her mum and dad are at peace. I hope they use all this notoriety for good, and create something amazing in Anaya's name. I hope they find love and happiness along the road ahead.

I really hope I never have to walk the path they have trod before me.