It has been 14 months, and 9 days since Jacob died. Yeah, thats a long time to some people, but to a grieving mother, that is nothing. Fourteen months is nothing in the grand scheme of things. I will (hopefully), live to be 80 years old. That means, I will suffer through the death of my son for 56 years. Fourteen months is nothing compared to that. But people want me to be over it. They want me to be happy, and laughing, and "back to my old self". It makes people uncomfortable to see me cry over Jacob. And I understand that they are over it by now. They don't get tears in their eyes when they think of my son who was only here for a few short days. They don't relive ever moment of his life like I do. They don't need to cry anymore. But I do. Sometimes, I just need to have a good cry, and get it out. I miss my son. Every second of every day I miss the child that I should be watching grow and learn new things. I miss the firsts that I never got to see, and I never will. And as much as I wish I didn't need to cry, I do. So let me do that. If I start to cry, let me get it out. If it makes you uncomfortable, get over yourself. I get it: No one wants to talk about death and be reminded of it every day. I promise, I know. But sometimes, you have to put your own insecurities and comfort zones out of the way, and allow those who need to heal, to do so. Don't ask me when I "wont need" to cry anymore. Because the reality is, I will probably have days 20+ years from now that I need to cry. And thats ok. So often we try and "fix" people. Trust me, I have been there trying to "fix" other's hurt. But the reality is, no one can fix this pain. No one can take it away and no one can replace the life that is now gone forever. I will always miss my son. I could go on to have 10 more kids, and it still won't be the same. I will still miss Jacob. Unless God himself gives Jacob back to me, I will always miss him, and there will always be someone missing from our family pictures. So let me cry.
I found this song after writing this and I knew it was perfect, so I thought I would share it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zt0BKDOe3x0&feature=youtube_gdata_player
Friday, January 17, 2014
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Trusting God
As anyone can imagine, having a child die can shake your faith. Especially in my case.
Here is a little backstory of our pregnancy. We went in at 7 weeks and got our first ultrasound. It was then that we saw two perfectly beating hearts on the screen. I never expected in my life to be given two children at once. We already had 3 beautiful children, and we were trying for one more to complete our family. My husband and I laughed (out of pure shock), but we were excited! My mind started spinning and I started making lists (which I always do when stressed) of all the things we would need for 2 new babies. I did as much reading as I could, and I logged everything that happened, every day. The first part of my pregnancy seemed to fly by. Before I knew it, I was 11 week pregnant, and SHOWING!! I couldn't keep it a secret any longer. I usually don't announce pregnancy until after 12 weeks because we have lost a few to miscarriage and I knew it was likely to happen again.
This is when it all changed. I was sitting at our friends house during small group when I realized I was slightly wet down there. I didn't think much of it, but when I got home I called my doctor's office just to make sure. They told me unless there was blood, there was nothing to worry about.
One week later, I went into to see the MFM (maternal fetal medicine doctor). Basically a specialist for high risk pregnancies. I was high risk due to my preterm labor in previous pregnancies as well as this one being twins. When we got in there and started the ultrasound, we knew something wasn't right. There were two heartbeats, but one looked very small. The MFM came in and told me what I was afraid to hear. My water had broken a week ago, at 12 weeks pregnant. A baby cannot survive without fluid because they need it to develop their lungs. Not only that, but once your water breaks you are at a hight risk of infection. We were told to terminate the pregnancy, but we refused. Our MFM told us all we could do was wait until my body miscarried them both, or I got an infection in which case they would induce me and we would lose both of the babies.
We had a choice at this moment. We could agree to what the doctor wanted, or we could put it in God's Hands. We chose the latter, and asked God to protect them, and keep them safe and growing. And he did. For 13 weeks, he kept both of the babies growing on track, we got to see things that we were told we never would because Jacob didn't have fluid. I stayed healthy, with no infection setting in.
Fast forward through a traumatic emergency c-section (with no pain medicine might I add) at 25 weeks pregnant, to 2 days after birth. Jacob had had two major brain bleeds and his body and organs started shutting down. We watched as they pulled him off life support and said goodbye.
I begged and pleaded with God to keep Jacob alive. He had done it for 13 weeks, why would he take my son away now? But He did, and it hurt.
I hated trusting God. I trusted Him, and he let me down. He let me believe I would bring my son home, and then he pulled the rug right out from under me. In a matter of less then 48 hours, my life went from having so much hope, to losing it all. I went through some pretty dark times since then. And I'm sure I'll go through more as time goes on. But there is one thing that bugs me now. Most of my friends are amazing! They try and help, and I know they mean well, but its hard to watch someone go through this and not think they are still "stuck" in their "not trusting God" faze. Don't get me wrong, I still have days where I don't trust him, but more often then not, its not that I don't trust him. I just realize that He is going to do His plans, and they may not be what I want. I trust God to do what is "best" and is "His Plan". However, I have learned that His Plan and My Plan are not always the same, and he is not going to do My Plan, just because I ask Him to. I have learned that God is willing to let me suffer, for the Greater Plan, and I have to be prepared for that. I don't "not trust" God with whatever the issue is, I trust Him to do what he needs to do, and I am no longer naive enough to think it will not cause me pain. I have to be prepared for the fact that sometimes, life sucks, and there is nothing you can do to change it. I hate the "I prayed and God answered my Prayers" saying. Because the reality is, Jacob didn't die because I didn't pray. Trust me on this, it was not from a lack of prayers that my son died. My son died because that is what God had planned, and no matter how much I prayed and begged, if God wanted my son, He was going to get him.
No its, not that I don't trust God, I have just learned that trusting God doesn't always mean a good outcome for me. And that sucks...
Here is a little backstory of our pregnancy. We went in at 7 weeks and got our first ultrasound. It was then that we saw two perfectly beating hearts on the screen. I never expected in my life to be given two children at once. We already had 3 beautiful children, and we were trying for one more to complete our family. My husband and I laughed (out of pure shock), but we were excited! My mind started spinning and I started making lists (which I always do when stressed) of all the things we would need for 2 new babies. I did as much reading as I could, and I logged everything that happened, every day. The first part of my pregnancy seemed to fly by. Before I knew it, I was 11 week pregnant, and SHOWING!! I couldn't keep it a secret any longer. I usually don't announce pregnancy until after 12 weeks because we have lost a few to miscarriage and I knew it was likely to happen again.
This is when it all changed. I was sitting at our friends house during small group when I realized I was slightly wet down there. I didn't think much of it, but when I got home I called my doctor's office just to make sure. They told me unless there was blood, there was nothing to worry about.
One week later, I went into to see the MFM (maternal fetal medicine doctor). Basically a specialist for high risk pregnancies. I was high risk due to my preterm labor in previous pregnancies as well as this one being twins. When we got in there and started the ultrasound, we knew something wasn't right. There were two heartbeats, but one looked very small. The MFM came in and told me what I was afraid to hear. My water had broken a week ago, at 12 weeks pregnant. A baby cannot survive without fluid because they need it to develop their lungs. Not only that, but once your water breaks you are at a hight risk of infection. We were told to terminate the pregnancy, but we refused. Our MFM told us all we could do was wait until my body miscarried them both, or I got an infection in which case they would induce me and we would lose both of the babies.
We had a choice at this moment. We could agree to what the doctor wanted, or we could put it in God's Hands. We chose the latter, and asked God to protect them, and keep them safe and growing. And he did. For 13 weeks, he kept both of the babies growing on track, we got to see things that we were told we never would because Jacob didn't have fluid. I stayed healthy, with no infection setting in.
Fast forward through a traumatic emergency c-section (with no pain medicine might I add) at 25 weeks pregnant, to 2 days after birth. Jacob had had two major brain bleeds and his body and organs started shutting down. We watched as they pulled him off life support and said goodbye.
I begged and pleaded with God to keep Jacob alive. He had done it for 13 weeks, why would he take my son away now? But He did, and it hurt.
I hated trusting God. I trusted Him, and he let me down. He let me believe I would bring my son home, and then he pulled the rug right out from under me. In a matter of less then 48 hours, my life went from having so much hope, to losing it all. I went through some pretty dark times since then. And I'm sure I'll go through more as time goes on. But there is one thing that bugs me now. Most of my friends are amazing! They try and help, and I know they mean well, but its hard to watch someone go through this and not think they are still "stuck" in their "not trusting God" faze. Don't get me wrong, I still have days where I don't trust him, but more often then not, its not that I don't trust him. I just realize that He is going to do His plans, and they may not be what I want. I trust God to do what is "best" and is "His Plan". However, I have learned that His Plan and My Plan are not always the same, and he is not going to do My Plan, just because I ask Him to. I have learned that God is willing to let me suffer, for the Greater Plan, and I have to be prepared for that. I don't "not trust" God with whatever the issue is, I trust Him to do what he needs to do, and I am no longer naive enough to think it will not cause me pain. I have to be prepared for the fact that sometimes, life sucks, and there is nothing you can do to change it. I hate the "I prayed and God answered my Prayers" saying. Because the reality is, Jacob didn't die because I didn't pray. Trust me on this, it was not from a lack of prayers that my son died. My son died because that is what God had planned, and no matter how much I prayed and begged, if God wanted my son, He was going to get him.
No its, not that I don't trust God, I have just learned that trusting God doesn't always mean a good outcome for me. And that sucks...
Monday, January 6, 2014
Really, you had to ask THAT?!!!
I cannot get over how many seemingly simple questions can cause so much pain now that I have an angel. So many times, people mean no harm in asking simple things, they are just trying to have a conversation. Unfortuanatly, after losing a child, those simple things, turn into questions that leave an angel mommy feeling confused, mad, and often upset at herself for the way she answered.
After I brought my living twin home from the hospital, I had the occasion when I had to take all 4 of my living children to the store. At one point, the very sweet older lady who was our cashier asked me "Oh how sweet, how many children do you have." First of all, I had 4 with me, can you not count? Second of all, do you really want me to say it so you can tell me how hard is must be and how busy I am, because I SHOULD be more busy, and I would do anything to be pulling my hair because my twins wont sleep at the same time. I stood and looked at her like she had just slapped me in the face. It was the first time someone had asked me how many kids I had since Jacob had died. How do I answer this? Do I tell her 5 and have her ask where the other one was, in which case I would have to explain the whole story to her? Which lets face it, no one wants to hear about a baby that has less than a 1% chance at life, unless they survive. Do I tell her 4 and refuse to acknowledge that my son is my child? I remember that day so clearly because it was the first time I refused to mention my Jacob. I came home and cried. I felt horrible because I felt like I let him down. I didn't give him the recognition he deserved and as a mother, I failed him. Our job as mothers is to raise our children and teach them, My job as an Angel Mommy, is to keep my son's story alive. Since that day I have refused to do that again. I mention him whenever asked and realize that my comfort is what I have to live with, not theirs. If they get uncomfortable about me mentioning my dead child, then that is something they need to work on, not me. I refuse to let someone else's comfort level affect me and what I say about my son.
I could go on and on about what questions rip me to the core, but in reality it wont change anything. What it has changed is me. I no longer carry on small talk with strangers. I will see a cute baby and want to ask about them, but what if they just lost a baby too? What if that sweet little one is suppose to be a twin, but will live their life alone? What if the parents want more kids, but cannot have more? These are questions that I never thought about before, but now I cannot help but wonder. Becoming an Angel Mommy has changed my perspective, and taking away my innocents when it comes to babies. I no longer find joy in someone announcing a pregnancy. Instead I hit my knees praying God keeps that baby safe and healthy until at least 40 weeks!! I worry about parents and babies and older children alike, because I know what this pain is, and I wish it on NO ONE!! Losing a Child changes the parents. It takes away a lot of joy. Not JUST because our child is gone, but because we no longer can live the carefree life we lived before. We can no longer enjoy the little things, because in the back of our head is always the fear of losing those children in our lives we care so much about. We are forever changed, and frankly, I am still trying to decide if its for the better.
After I brought my living twin home from the hospital, I had the occasion when I had to take all 4 of my living children to the store. At one point, the very sweet older lady who was our cashier asked me "Oh how sweet, how many children do you have." First of all, I had 4 with me, can you not count? Second of all, do you really want me to say it so you can tell me how hard is must be and how busy I am, because I SHOULD be more busy, and I would do anything to be pulling my hair because my twins wont sleep at the same time. I stood and looked at her like she had just slapped me in the face. It was the first time someone had asked me how many kids I had since Jacob had died. How do I answer this? Do I tell her 5 and have her ask where the other one was, in which case I would have to explain the whole story to her? Which lets face it, no one wants to hear about a baby that has less than a 1% chance at life, unless they survive. Do I tell her 4 and refuse to acknowledge that my son is my child? I remember that day so clearly because it was the first time I refused to mention my Jacob. I came home and cried. I felt horrible because I felt like I let him down. I didn't give him the recognition he deserved and as a mother, I failed him. Our job as mothers is to raise our children and teach them, My job as an Angel Mommy, is to keep my son's story alive. Since that day I have refused to do that again. I mention him whenever asked and realize that my comfort is what I have to live with, not theirs. If they get uncomfortable about me mentioning my dead child, then that is something they need to work on, not me. I refuse to let someone else's comfort level affect me and what I say about my son.
I could go on and on about what questions rip me to the core, but in reality it wont change anything. What it has changed is me. I no longer carry on small talk with strangers. I will see a cute baby and want to ask about them, but what if they just lost a baby too? What if that sweet little one is suppose to be a twin, but will live their life alone? What if the parents want more kids, but cannot have more? These are questions that I never thought about before, but now I cannot help but wonder. Becoming an Angel Mommy has changed my perspective, and taking away my innocents when it comes to babies. I no longer find joy in someone announcing a pregnancy. Instead I hit my knees praying God keeps that baby safe and healthy until at least 40 weeks!! I worry about parents and babies and older children alike, because I know what this pain is, and I wish it on NO ONE!! Losing a Child changes the parents. It takes away a lot of joy. Not JUST because our child is gone, but because we no longer can live the carefree life we lived before. We can no longer enjoy the little things, because in the back of our head is always the fear of losing those children in our lives we care so much about. We are forever changed, and frankly, I am still trying to decide if its for the better.
Sunday, January 5, 2014
January 2014
So fast forward 14 months, and here we are. I spent the whole last year, worrying and taking care of Jacob twin sister Juliet. Thank God, she is a happy healthy 1 year old, who besides being slightly delayed in her development, she has no long term effects from being born 4 months early. As I thought about a New Year's Resolution, I thought back to 2013. Our daughter came home from the hospital in March, and our life has revolved around countless doctor appointment, physical therapy, and trying to keep her safe and healthy. Add on top of that the lives of her three older siblings, and we have a pretty busy house. I didn't realize until thinking back, that 2013 I spend pushing down and pretending the pain of Jacob was not there. I was "fine" when people asked, and really, I didn't bring up the pain and didn't want to. I wanted to be "over it" and move on to being happy again. Unfortunately, being happy is something that no matter how hard I tried, I wasn't. I didn't find joy in life, and while my kids could make me smile every once in a while, I wasn't really "happy".
So I have set out to change that. And part of being happy, is acknowledging the pain and living through it. I'm not saying at the end of 2014 I will be "over" Jacob, and I will be "back to the old me", but I hope I will be one step closer. It's not going to be a fun journey, that's for sure. It's never fun to bring up pain when all you want is to be done with it. It may not be fun, and it sure as hell won't be easy, but in the end, it will be worth it. To be able to enjoy life again, and to be happy again is worth all the crap I have to go through to get there. It will be bringing up old memories, good and bad. It will be living through some pain over and over again, and it will be bring up pains that I never "dealt" with in the first place. In the end, I hope to come out stronger, braver, happier, and most of all, I hope to have back the Faith I started with during this journey.
Welcome to my journey. If you are a fellow angel mommy, I'm sorry. There is no other words to say to someone who lost a child, because in reality, words won't make it better. But I hope you can find some comfort in this, and know you are not alone. Thanks for joining me on my journey....
So I have set out to change that. And part of being happy, is acknowledging the pain and living through it. I'm not saying at the end of 2014 I will be "over" Jacob, and I will be "back to the old me", but I hope I will be one step closer. It's not going to be a fun journey, that's for sure. It's never fun to bring up pain when all you want is to be done with it. It may not be fun, and it sure as hell won't be easy, but in the end, it will be worth it. To be able to enjoy life again, and to be happy again is worth all the crap I have to go through to get there. It will be bringing up old memories, good and bad. It will be living through some pain over and over again, and it will be bring up pains that I never "dealt" with in the first place. In the end, I hope to come out stronger, braver, happier, and most of all, I hope to have back the Faith I started with during this journey.
Welcome to my journey. If you are a fellow angel mommy, I'm sorry. There is no other words to say to someone who lost a child, because in reality, words won't make it better. But I hope you can find some comfort in this, and know you are not alone. Thanks for joining me on my journey....
November 8th, 2012
November 8th 2012. My twins were less then two days old. They were born at 25 weeks gestation, and weighted right around 1.5lbs. While sleeping in my hospital bed, I got the call I never wanted. We needed to get down to the NICU ASAP. Jacob's stats were dropping, and it wouldn't be long before he would leave this world. I had spend the night praying, no begging, God to keep him alive. It didn't matter that I knew a long time ago that he had less than a 1% chance of survival. I really thought a miracle would pull us through, and I would be bringing home two babies from the hospital. That was not what was happening. And no matter how much I cried out, I realized that morning that nothing I could do would change reality. My son was about to die, and I had to be there to say goodbye. So, with my husband and best friend by my side, I went to say goodbye to Jacob Bradley Phillips. I watched as the nurses pulled his IVs out, and my heart broke as I watched them unhook him from the only machine that was keeping him alive. He lived in my arms for about 15 minutes. I got to see him by his sisters side for the only time in their lives. I watched as the color faded out of him, and I felt his body go cold. I kissed him once on the head and said goodbye. At this moment my life was split into two. My life before my son died, and my life after. Welcome to my journey...
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