I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t do to have her with me, legal, illegal, you name it — it would be done.

Not Quantifiable

IMG_6463A popular hypothetical question among animal owners is regarding what the dollar amount is that you would spend on a very sick or injured animal. What is your cap on prolonging the life of your best friend? It’s different for everyone, as a dog owner, I LOVE our Pixy girl so much but I just don’t know the dollar amount. It would honestly depend on the month, on her age, on any number of factors. Often we live from paycheck to paycheck, so the thought of a sick or injured pup is just so difficult, it could be financially devastating.

Somehow it’s a bit different with kids for most people. When it comes to your kid, there’s really no price tag. There’s no amount that you wouldn’t pay to make sure that they were healthy, that they were well, that they were physically taken care of, that they lived. The whole reason that we work and have jobs is to give our children a great life, everything they could possibly need.

I would live in my car to bring Shaundi back. I would live with family members for the rest of my days, I would live on the streets if it meant Shaundi was with us happy and healthy. I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t do to have her with me, legal, illegal, you name it —  it would be done.

When the hospital bill arrived this week I knew it would be difficult to open it, but honestly every move that my body makes is difficult. Every thought that I think is painful. Every single thing that goes through my mind every single day is difficult. Every laugh, every tear, every smile, every frown, everything is difficult. When I opened the hospital bill and saw the bottom line I was so upset. Not because it was exorbitant, but because it was such a little number. Yes it was tens of thousands of dollars more than the hospital bills that I used to complain about for her birth, but it didn’t seem like enough of a price tag for a life.Shaundi swinging

In retrospect, three months ago I should have been so thrilled at the price I paid to have a happy beautiful baby born. Those bills are only a fraction of the bill for services rendered to save her life, yet there aren’t enough decimal spaces in that price tag. I wanted to be shocked, to be blown away! I wanted the bill to be hundreds of thousands of dollars, millions of dollars, for there to be a numerical understanding of the effort that was taken to try to save my tiny baby. I wanted a number that matched the terrible pain, I wanted the number to give some value, some sort of measurable value to her life here on earth.

But I didn’t find.

I found a number that I can live with. A number that is financially crippling in some aspects, but just devastating that I cannot measure the value of her life on this number. I can’t stop thinking about how I wish that I opened the envelope and found something that I was looking for. But I think that as with everything else in this situation, I will just never find what I’m looking for. I will never find answers, I will never find words and now I will never find numbers that give some meaning to this.

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