22 Weeks, 3 Days

Dear Baby Batts,

Today was a terrible day. We said goodbye to a very dear friend, one you would have loved to pieces:

Lola

Your daddy and I were watching Lola while Memaw and Papa are out of town. She started acting really lethargic and not eating, so we took her to the vet. After some blood work and testing, they determined that she had an auto-immune disease wherein her body recognized her blood as a foreign object and was trying to destroy it. She needed an immediate blood transfusion and months of steroid therapy... with no guarantees she would ever fully recover.

We made the terrible, difficult, gut-wrenching decision to end her suffering and illness by putting her to sleep.

Your daddy and I hugged her, loved on her, kissed her, petted her, rubbed her ears, and told her what a good girl she was before, during, and after the procedure. She smiled her goofy smile for a few final seconds before she fell asleep.

Walking into Memaw and Papa's house afterward. So. Hard. 

Oh, Ruthie. You would have loved Lola. She pranced. I'm not even kidding. When she got excited about something, she would prance around, kicking her little paws out in front of her. And she would sing. She hated other dogs, but loved her people fiercely. She played with that football incessantly, tearing it to shreds from time to time, and loved to get treats in her ball. 

She was such a sweet friend, especially to Papa, and saying goodbye is one of the hardest things yet. 

But, little Ruth, we have to find joy in things, even in hard things. Lola isn't sick anymore. And the Lord is still good. He is so good. 

We are praying for peace; we are praying for comfort. And the Lord is answering.

Love,

Mama