And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Colossians 3:14 NIV
Above is a picture of my kids. I think sometimes that the "bloopers" make the best shots.
As I have mentioned before, I was beyond thankful to not have been present when my children were told that the baby passed away. It breaks my heart to think of what they must have felt at that moment. Their mommy was in the hospital sick and they had not seen or spoke to me in days. Now, they had the added confusion of trying to understand how a baby could be in my tummy at one moment and gone the next. How could something be gone that wasn't here yet?
The afternoon I came home kids were overjoyed. They had made little signs for me and hung them all over the house. I was so happy to come home. I wanted to be with them, but I was overwhelmed to see them. In fact, when I came home it didn't feel like it was really me. I felt like I was watching this moment unfold in front of me. I did not feel much of anything except for numbness. It did not take very long for their questions to come.
My kids have been through many losses in just a short time. I lost all four of my grandparents, whom the children were all very close to, (including my grandmother who lived with us so I could care for her the last year before she passed), all within less then two years of each other. We also lost our lab to a snake back in the back yard during the same time. Now, another loss for them to try to understand at such a young age.
Richard and Leia who are my two oldest children, seemed to be struggling the most. Richard, my oldest, didn't say too much. In fact, he stayed away from me that evening. I didn't push anything with him and let him have his space. I felt like he was dealing with feelings of knowing I was very sick in the hospital and then of course, the reality of losing a baby. He was probably scared that I wasn't going to make it home and now that I was he was afraid to get too close to me.
Leia immediately asked me when I would be having another baby. After all, this was her chance for a sister. I decided from the beginning to be honest with them as much as it was appropriate. I explained to her I would not be having another baby and therefore, she would not be having a sister. I will never forget the sadness on her face. I felt like I had let her down. It is even more important to me that she and I have a close bond. Besides, we are way outnumbered in this house!
Benjamin, who is my four year old, handled the loss very well. Of course, he couldn't truly understand the loss part, but he did understand that he had a baby in heaven. Wow, was he proud of that! He was telling anyone who would listen that he had his very own baby in heaven. He would scoff at everyone who spoke to because they were not as special as him to know someone in heaven. He would ask me questions constantly. He wanted to know what color hair the baby had, was it a boy or girl, what was it's name, what color eyes it had. Every once in a while Benjamin still claims to see the baby in the sky with Jesus when we are driving somewhere or playing outside. He always looks so happy when he tells me this, that sometimes I really wonder what he sees.
Then there is Samuel. He was asleep when I came home from the hospital. It took all the strength I had not to grab him form his crib and have him sleep with me all night. The following morning, Richard brought him into the bedroom to see me. Samuel was so ecstatic he almost jumped out of his daddy's arms. He grabbed my face with both of his hands and pressed his sweet little face against mine. Words really do not give justice to how precious that moment with him was for me.
I am certainly blessed to have four beautiful children. Having had children prior to losing a baby both helps and hurts at the same time. It helps because it is a distraction from the pain. They keep my mind occupied most of the time. Their hugs, kisses and early morning climbs into my bed are my therapy.
In the same breath, being a mother makes the loss that much harder. I know what I lost. I know what that little baby would have become. I know how it would have snuggled on my chest while I rocked it to sleep. I know the messes it would have made all over my house as a toddler. I know the sound of pitter patter feet and giggles I will not hear. I know what I lost out on.
Perhaps that is why I have changed so much in the last few months. Before I went through this tragedy I was letting life pass me by. I was always in a rush to get to the next place or do the next thing.
I know that what I have here and now is precious. I do not want to miss one moment of the love, and joy that has been given to me.
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