Life Goes On

Life goes on. The unbearably painful truth that haunts every grieving mother. Time does not stop when our children die. The world does not wait for us to pick ourselves up and get ready to keep moving. It goes on, and we are dragged along with it. We are expected to get up and get dressed every morning. We are needed by family members, our jobs, and our pets. But in truth, all we want to do is crawl into a hole and never come out. (Or at least that was me)

But what good comes from hiding out in a hole? I love the story of David and Bethsheba. When their child, a son became ill, David begged and pleaded with God. He did not eat, he did not get up from the ground. He did not bath. He was in what I considered myself to be a hole. The same type of hole I was in after Jacob died. But the day came when David's son died. And David did the most crazy thing in the world. He got up, showered, got dressed, and ate. When asked about it, he simply said “While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept. I thought, ‘Who knows? The Lord may be gracious to me and let the child live.’ But now that he is dead, why should I go on fasting? Can I bring him back again? I will go to him, but he will not return to me.” 1 Samual 12:22-23. 


Now, I'm not saying it's not ok to weep, or be stuck in a hole. Heck, Jesus wept when he learned that his friend Lazareth had died. (And Jesus brought him back to life!) And I was stuck in my own hole for a long time. But David has a point. Can I bring Jacob back by crying and fasting and not bathing? Can I bring my son back by living my life in a hole? No, I can not. I cannot do anything that will bring Jacob back to me. But I will see him again. I will get to a point when I can hug my son again. I will go to him one day (and I fully expect him to be there waiting to greet me as soon as I do.) 


So what good does it do to stay in my hole? I'm not saying it's easy. And frankly, there are times when I really don't WANT to get up out of my hole. But God has put me here for a reason. And he let Jacob die for a reason. What if the reason was for me to understand something? What if it was help someone else through this journey? What if, it was not for my benefit at all, but for someone else to see God? What good can I do by living in a hole. What can I share, what can I support, if I cannot get myself up off the ground? Don't get me wrong, I fail at this on a regular basis. I don't always want to share Jacob's story. I don't always want to get the pity looks, the "I'm so sorry", "I don't know how you do it", "I could never survive that" comments. But I also know that God has a plan. A plan that I wish I could change sometimes. But in my heart, I know it is good. And I know God will reward those who are faithful to Him. I don't know what that looks like, and honestly all I want is to have my son delivered into my arms again. But one day, I just hope I can go before God and say I did the best I could. I don't want to regret anything when I stand before the LORD, but instead be able to hold my head high and say, "Yes it was hard, and yes it hurt, and no I didn't understand, but I kept moving forward." 

I pray you are moving forward. Even if it is so slow, no one else notices. God will notice, and your sweet angel will notice too. 

Mothers Day 2014

Dear Mothers,
Today is a day all about you. Your kids make you sweet little home made gifts from school. Usually consisting of handprints and footprints. Your husband gets you a nice lunch or dinner with flowers to show how much he appreciates all you do. Maybe you get a break from cleaning, or laundry. Maybe you get pampered and a chance to relax. And it feels pretty good right? All these things done for you because you are MOM. But what about those who don't get the gifts, because their baby never changes.

I will be honest. I celebrated 7 Mother's Days before I became a mother to an angel. And I thought it was all about those gifts, and breaks and good meals. But now I realize Mother's Day is about love. A love that only a mother can understand. A love that, like nothing else will be carried through your life until your last breath. A love that, when your child is gone, has no where to go. There is no longer a recipient of those hugs and kisses when you feel like giving them out. There is no one to snuggle with and cuddle when the time comes. There is someone missing from those Mother's Day pictures.

I hated Mother's Day last year. It was my first Mother's Day without Jacob. I avoided Facebook at all costs, because I knew I would see pictures of every Mom with her "sweet babies". (the same one's she was just complaining about the day before). I didn't want to celebrate. I didn't want anything. I didn't even want a picture of me with my kids, because I knew I would be missing one of them. My Mother's Day photos would never be complete again. My husband asked that we get just one picture of me with them, if not for me, but for the kids sakes. So we took one. Just one. It still hurts to look at. But I have it, and I am glad. I will be taking one more this year. Just one.

Mother's Day is a day that is suppose to be joyful and happy and relaxing, but when your child is gone, Mother's Day is just another reminder that you are not the person you used to be. So, If you know an angel Mom, do me a favor and give her a hug today. Reminder her she is a mother, and MENTION her child. Because that is what we all want. We want our children to be remembered. And I promise, you won't be the "reminder" that our child is gone, but you will be the reason we can go home and smile again.

Pictures

Jacob  right after birth getting his vent tube placed

I know, two post in one day! But I just need to talk about this.

I have never shared pictures of Jacob before. I have many that the hospital took after he passed away, plus a few that nurses and friends took when we took him off life support and were saying goodbye. I've been asked a lot why I never shared pictures of him. I honestly don't know the answer to that question. Part of it, I know, had to do with Jacob being MINE. I didn't get a lot of time with him, so I guess I just wanted him to be only mine. When my mom came down for his memorial service, I showed the pictures to her, and my best friend was there with us in the NICU the day he died. But besides those few people who were there that day, no one has seen pictures of Jacob.

It's not that I am ashamed of him or scared or anything really, except that I wanted him to myself.

My best friend and I with Jacob

I decided to share a few pictures today for the first time of Jacob on my facebook page. And I am in shock. A good shock, don't get me wrong. I never realized how many people have been waiting to see this little boy that they hear so much about. It never occurred to me, that sharing his picture would be something that other's longed for, and actually enjoyed. I never thought sharing his pictures would be an act of strength. To me, it was out of weakness that I shared these pictures. I NEED people to know he was here. I NEED others to love him, and see him. I need to know he was not just a horrible dream I had. He WAS real. He WAS alive. He WAS here. My job as his mother is to never let him be forgotten. I feel selfish for keeping his pictures to myself for so long. Selfish, and like I failed him in a way. But I cannot go back and I cannot change that now. Now, I just have to put one foot in front of the other and keep going. Keeping Jacob's memory alive. So, the first step, is to share his pictures. I hope you enjoy them.

Brett and I with Jacob and Juliet together again. 

Perfect little fingers

I still regret this moment: Telling them to unplug him. 

Missing the "Should have Beens"

18 Months without you. It still amazes me how fast time is going on without you. The world keeps turning, schools, jobs, friends all continue on with life. And here I sit, balling my eyes out all day because for some reason it seems more "ok" for me to cry on "anniversary" days then others. It't not really anything major about this day, except it has the same day on a calendar. You should be having an 18 month check up this week. I should be looking forward to the "new" things you will be accomplishing now that you have hit this time milestone. But you wont ever hit those milestones. Your hand will forever be the size it was on November 8th, 2012. You will forever be my baby, not my toddler, or little boy, or grown man that I still call my baby. I've gone through this with every "milestone" and it honestly never gets easier. There is always something new I am missing with you. There is always something I long to see you do, but I know it will never happen. I dont know when or if this will ever change. I hope one day I will be able to not think about the "what ifs", but the reality is, when God called you home, He took a future away from us that we will never know. He took not just your life, but your wife's life, and your children's lives out of ours forever. I will never see you as a husband, or a father. I will never get to watch your Dad pass down knowledge on raising a family to you. It will always be bittersweet. And no matter what God puts in our path, and blesses us with in the future, YOU will always be missing.