I wrote this post last year when we sent happy birthday messages to Josh and Jonah on balloons
http://thegomers.blogspot.ca/2012/03/happy-birthday-josh-jonah.html
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Monday, November 03, 2008
Part of our family...
Lately I've been finding myself torn... although I want to have a place where I can just journal and write about my sweet Josh and Jonah, not doing this on our family blog seems to be too "removed" from our family...
God has shaped our family through the births and deaths of our first two sons. We are better parents because we have experienced the devastation of losing not one, but two children. I am a mother of 5. Although our family cannot physically be together this side of Heaven, I want to integrate the two blogs so that we can share about ALL our children in one place.
So this will be the last post on the boys' blog (I think...) If anyone's coming here specifically because of our boys, I will tag the posts on our family blog that are specifically about Josh and Jonah.
In the meantime, this is the story of the O'Brien family who recently lost their precious Larson. My heart aches for their family and for so many others who have babes in Heaven. Isn't it amazing to know that we'll see, hold and touch them again?! Until then, I will continue to praise my God who takes away, but also gives and lavishes us with His AMAZING love. I still believe.
God has shaped our family through the births and deaths of our first two sons. We are better parents because we have experienced the devastation of losing not one, but two children. I am a mother of 5. Although our family cannot physically be together this side of Heaven, I want to integrate the two blogs so that we can share about ALL our children in one place.
So this will be the last post on the boys' blog (I think...) If anyone's coming here specifically because of our boys, I will tag the posts on our family blog that are specifically about Josh and Jonah.
In the meantime, this is the story of the O'Brien family who recently lost their precious Larson. My heart aches for their family and for so many others who have babes in Heaven. Isn't it amazing to know that we'll see, hold and touch them again?! Until then, I will continue to praise my God who takes away, but also gives and lavishes us with His AMAZING love. I still believe.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
Moving on...life after losing the boys
It's been 5 years, 3 months since the boys were born. We had Josh with us for 2 days and Jonah for 30. We are thankful for even this little while with our boys, but our hearts ache for even just one more day with them.
I've recently been honoured to receive emails from other mothers who have recently lost their babies. As I read each story, tears run down my cheeks thinking about our own sweet boys and all the little ones who have now joined them in Heaven. I think about the freshness of their pain and my heart aches, almost physically for them. I read their words knowing that they could have easily been mine not that long ago. I guess I wanted to post about "moving on" because other mothers have asked about life after losing a baby. I am honoured and humbled to share my story.
Part of this post is a message that I wrote to another mother in this "mothers-with-babies-in-Heaven-club" that no one ever asks to join.
If you're reading this as one who has recently joined this "club", I am so sorry for your loss. Although nothing that I could write will assuage the grief that you feel, I hope knowing that another mother has walked in similar shoes and is still standing will help in some small way.
In the days that followed the boys' memorial services, I tried (some days) to reintegrate myself into society. It seemed like I was often surrounded by so many blissfully naive parents with their beautiful babies with chubby cheeks. I remember feeling so angry at a friend who went on and on about her baby teething and how difficult it was. It was only weeks after we had returned from Ottawa where we sat by our sons' beds praying that God would bring healing and allow us to parent them. I sat for hours at a time searching for other mothers like me, mothers without children to hold here on earth.
So, life after losing the boys...
The twins were our first children. It was my first pregnancy. Everything was normal and the only "risk" factor we had was that it was a twin pregnancy. They were here and gone long before their due date. We had their memorial service on my first Mother's Day. Although my babies were in Heaven, I still celebrated as their mother - the mother of two amazing, brave little boys who God gave us for a little while to teach us lessons that we're still learning.
We've had 3 children since the boys. I became pregnant a little sooner than we had planned after the boys died, but God's timing was perfect. Although another child could never take the place of Josh and Jonah, I found being pregnant actually helped me to grieve. By the time our first Christmas without our boys rolled around, I was 8 mos pregnant with our daughter. It seemed as though when I was missing the boys' kicks, I would feel her move. I would write her letters about her brothers, about my hopes and dreams for her (even before we knew we were having a girl), about my fears. I think it also helped that she wasn't a twin and also that she was a girl. Nonetheless, every slightly abnormal symptom, pain or gut feeling sent my mind into overdrive of all the things that could go wrong. Every day, every week that went by was another milestone and I knew that she was growing stronger and stronger. Abby was slightly premature as well. Holding her in my arms and being able to nurse her in the delivery room was amazing. I think my next pregnancy (with my son Jude) was actually worse once I knew that we were having another boy. I'd never been able to carry a son to full term and all my sons to that point had died.
I was standing in church one day, not really able to really worship with all the fears and anxieties clouding my mind. Then I had this beautiful picture of God's hands holding my womb, cradling Jude's tiny body as it formed. That image brought me so much peace and carried me through the remainder of the pregnancy. By the time I was pregnant with Jordan, I had been able to carry 2 babes to near-term and I was busier so I wasn't nearly as anxious. Through all our subsequent pregnancies, just feeling the baby move brought so much joy and blessing. Each passing day brought us closer to the hope of bringing a baby home.
It's been 5 years since we said goodbye to Josh and Jonah. Time does bring healing. The wounds aren't as raw and my memories bring me mostly joy. I've realized that grieving is a life-long process that just changes over time. Although I don't often cry so hard that I can't breathe anymore, I find myself thinking of them at unexpected times. When I graduated with my M.A., I cried because I knew that my little boys would never start Kindergarten, let alone graduate. When I saw a friend's pictures of her little guy getting on the school bus for the first time, I wept knowing that my little boys would have started school this year as well.
Although I'm still grieving, I can see God's sovereignty in it all The first year was REALLY difficult. I still find myself feeling anxious at times about our other three children, Abby, Jude and Jordan. I guess I'm afraid of losing them too. I'm not so naive anymore to believe that children don't die. So...I'm still working on it :) I just keep bringing my fears back to God over and over and over. We take lots of pictures and video. Life is short and we want to cherish every moment. Even with all the pictures we took of Josh and Jonah, they just weren't enough for a whole lifetime.
I've recently been honoured to receive emails from other mothers who have recently lost their babies. As I read each story, tears run down my cheeks thinking about our own sweet boys and all the little ones who have now joined them in Heaven. I think about the freshness of their pain and my heart aches, almost physically for them. I read their words knowing that they could have easily been mine not that long ago. I guess I wanted to post about "moving on" because other mothers have asked about life after losing a baby. I am honoured and humbled to share my story.
Part of this post is a message that I wrote to another mother in this "mothers-with-babies-in-Heaven-club" that no one ever asks to join.
If you're reading this as one who has recently joined this "club", I am so sorry for your loss. Although nothing that I could write will assuage the grief that you feel, I hope knowing that another mother has walked in similar shoes and is still standing will help in some small way.
In the days that followed the boys' memorial services, I tried (some days) to reintegrate myself into society. It seemed like I was often surrounded by so many blissfully naive parents with their beautiful babies with chubby cheeks. I remember feeling so angry at a friend who went on and on about her baby teething and how difficult it was. It was only weeks after we had returned from Ottawa where we sat by our sons' beds praying that God would bring healing and allow us to parent them. I sat for hours at a time searching for other mothers like me, mothers without children to hold here on earth.
So, life after losing the boys...
The twins were our first children. It was my first pregnancy. Everything was normal and the only "risk" factor we had was that it was a twin pregnancy. They were here and gone long before their due date. We had their memorial service on my first Mother's Day. Although my babies were in Heaven, I still celebrated as their mother - the mother of two amazing, brave little boys who God gave us for a little while to teach us lessons that we're still learning.
We've had 3 children since the boys. I became pregnant a little sooner than we had planned after the boys died, but God's timing was perfect. Although another child could never take the place of Josh and Jonah, I found being pregnant actually helped me to grieve. By the time our first Christmas without our boys rolled around, I was 8 mos pregnant with our daughter. It seemed as though when I was missing the boys' kicks, I would feel her move. I would write her letters about her brothers, about my hopes and dreams for her (even before we knew we were having a girl), about my fears. I think it also helped that she wasn't a twin and also that she was a girl. Nonetheless, every slightly abnormal symptom, pain or gut feeling sent my mind into overdrive of all the things that could go wrong. Every day, every week that went by was another milestone and I knew that she was growing stronger and stronger. Abby was slightly premature as well. Holding her in my arms and being able to nurse her in the delivery room was amazing. I think my next pregnancy (with my son Jude) was actually worse once I knew that we were having another boy. I'd never been able to carry a son to full term and all my sons to that point had died.
I was standing in church one day, not really able to really worship with all the fears and anxieties clouding my mind. Then I had this beautiful picture of God's hands holding my womb, cradling Jude's tiny body as it formed. That image brought me so much peace and carried me through the remainder of the pregnancy. By the time I was pregnant with Jordan, I had been able to carry 2 babes to near-term and I was busier so I wasn't nearly as anxious. Through all our subsequent pregnancies, just feeling the baby move brought so much joy and blessing. Each passing day brought us closer to the hope of bringing a baby home.
It's been 5 years since we said goodbye to Josh and Jonah. Time does bring healing. The wounds aren't as raw and my memories bring me mostly joy. I've realized that grieving is a life-long process that just changes over time. Although I don't often cry so hard that I can't breathe anymore, I find myself thinking of them at unexpected times. When I graduated with my M.A., I cried because I knew that my little boys would never start Kindergarten, let alone graduate. When I saw a friend's pictures of her little guy getting on the school bus for the first time, I wept knowing that my little boys would have started school this year as well.
Although I'm still grieving, I can see God's sovereignty in it all The first year was REALLY difficult. I still find myself feeling anxious at times about our other three children, Abby, Jude and Jordan. I guess I'm afraid of losing them too. I'm not so naive anymore to believe that children don't die. So...I'm still working on it :) I just keep bringing my fears back to God over and over and over. We take lots of pictures and video. Life is short and we want to cherish every moment. Even with all the pictures we took of Josh and Jonah, they just weren't enough for a whole lifetime.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Letter to Josh
Dear Joshie,
You were born on Tuesday, March 18, 2003 at 10:15 am, weighing only 616 grams. I wish I could have kept you in longer, to have given you more of a chance. I wish it wasn’t like this. I wish you didn’t have to fight so hard. I’m afraid of forgetting all the memories I have of you. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you before they whisked you away. It wasn’t our plan. I wanted to have held you and nursed you and Jonah after you were born. Your eyes were supposed to be open, not still fused shut.
I’m sorry I didn’t get to read you stories or sit by your bedside. I wanted to, but I needed to stay flat to help Jonah stay inside. You were doing so well! Your O2 was at 21%– room air, and everything was looking good. Them blood started to collect in your tiny lungs. In spite of blood transfusions, your O2 saturation dropped. They suspected both brain and organ damage and that the blood they had given you leaked into your brain.
Wednesday night they told us you would not live– I had only seen you twice! We had to say good-bye to you. How do I say good-bye to my baby son? Why would God do that?
Thursday morning I showered and dressed in a daze. I remember wondering what to wear (not that I had much of a choice). What does a mother wear when she says “good-bye” to her son? No one knew the agony that your Daddy and I were in. We left the hospital room and made our way to the NICU, knowing that when we left your side, we would be leaving you behind, forever.
As I held your tiny body in my arms for the first time, all I felt was love. You were an amazing little person from the dark hair on your head to the tiny toes on your feet. I knew the battle you had been through and wished that I could have been by your side to fight with you more. Holding you felt so unreal– you were not supposed to be here, in my arms, so soon. After we had each held you, cuddled you, and told you how much we loved you, we asked Rebecca to remove your ventilation tube so you would be free. Even after your life support was removed, your tiny heart continued to faintly beat and you took tiny breaths every few minutes. We told you it was okay to stop fighting and that Jesus was waiting for you. You finally let go. Saying “good-bye” to you was one of the hardest things your Daddy and I have ever done. It was never part of our plan. Only God knows why you came so early and had to leave so soon.
I miss you Josh. I miss all that you were and all that you would have become I miss all the memories I have and all the dreams I had for you that will never be fulfilled. I’ll love you forever my sweet son.
Mummy
You were born on Tuesday, March 18, 2003 at 10:15 am, weighing only 616 grams. I wish I could have kept you in longer, to have given you more of a chance. I wish it wasn’t like this. I wish you didn’t have to fight so hard. I’m afraid of forgetting all the memories I have of you. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you before they whisked you away. It wasn’t our plan. I wanted to have held you and nursed you and Jonah after you were born. Your eyes were supposed to be open, not still fused shut.
I’m sorry I didn’t get to read you stories or sit by your bedside. I wanted to, but I needed to stay flat to help Jonah stay inside. You were doing so well! Your O2 was at 21%– room air, and everything was looking good. Them blood started to collect in your tiny lungs. In spite of blood transfusions, your O2 saturation dropped. They suspected both brain and organ damage and that the blood they had given you leaked into your brain.
Wednesday night they told us you would not live– I had only seen you twice! We had to say good-bye to you. How do I say good-bye to my baby son? Why would God do that?
Thursday morning I showered and dressed in a daze. I remember wondering what to wear (not that I had much of a choice). What does a mother wear when she says “good-bye” to her son? No one knew the agony that your Daddy and I were in. We left the hospital room and made our way to the NICU, knowing that when we left your side, we would be leaving you behind, forever.
As I held your tiny body in my arms for the first time, all I felt was love. You were an amazing little person from the dark hair on your head to the tiny toes on your feet. I knew the battle you had been through and wished that I could have been by your side to fight with you more. Holding you felt so unreal– you were not supposed to be here, in my arms, so soon. After we had each held you, cuddled you, and told you how much we loved you, we asked Rebecca to remove your ventilation tube so you would be free. Even after your life support was removed, your tiny heart continued to faintly beat and you took tiny breaths every few minutes. We told you it was okay to stop fighting and that Jesus was waiting for you. You finally let go. Saying “good-bye” to you was one of the hardest things your Daddy and I have ever done. It was never part of our plan. Only God knows why you came so early and had to leave so soon.
I miss you Josh. I miss all that you were and all that you would have become I miss all the memories I have and all the dreams I had for you that will never be fulfilled. I’ll love you forever my sweet son.
Mummy
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Trust
The boys have been in Heaven now for over 5 years. Five years ago I was angry and disappointed with God.
Over the past few months I have found several blogs written by mothers like me, mothers with babies in Heaven. Most of these mothers have only just lost their precious babes and yet they praise God. They are an inspiration. Yup, I know they are not perfect and they struggle with being angry and disappointed with God, but they know that His shoulders are big enough to carry their grief. I also knew that, but I didn't always run to Jesus, cry to Jesus... I wallowed in self-pity and grief... Did I eventually get to the place where I could say, "blessed be the name of the Lord who gives and takes away"? I did. I would have got there sooner if I would have allowed myself to just TRUST. It's a choice. I chose to be bitter, angry and withdrawn, but God is faithful. Sooooo very faithful.
I remember a line from a song I heard when I was in Jr. High that's stuck with me "...it's easier to trust the Lord on a sunny day, but when the rain and thunder comes we think He's gone away..." Who am I to doubt the Creator of the Universe, the Sovereign God? I haven't made sense of the boys' short time here with us on earth. But, I know that God is Sovereign. Every moment is planned. God doesn't make mistakes.
Tonight...
I thank God my precious boys and each moment I had with them here on earth.
I thank God for Abby, Jude and Jordan and for the amazing people He created them to be.
I thank God that He allowed me, chose me, to be a mother to these precious little ones.
I thank God for other mothers who have lost babes and yet have chosen to trust God, praise God, and glorify God in the midst of their grief.
Over the past few months I have found several blogs written by mothers like me, mothers with babies in Heaven. Most of these mothers have only just lost their precious babes and yet they praise God. They are an inspiration. Yup, I know they are not perfect and they struggle with being angry and disappointed with God, but they know that His shoulders are big enough to carry their grief. I also knew that, but I didn't always run to Jesus, cry to Jesus... I wallowed in self-pity and grief... Did I eventually get to the place where I could say, "blessed be the name of the Lord who gives and takes away"? I did. I would have got there sooner if I would have allowed myself to just TRUST. It's a choice. I chose to be bitter, angry and withdrawn, but God is faithful. Sooooo very faithful.
I remember a line from a song I heard when I was in Jr. High that's stuck with me "...it's easier to trust the Lord on a sunny day, but when the rain and thunder comes we think He's gone away..." Who am I to doubt the Creator of the Universe, the Sovereign God? I haven't made sense of the boys' short time here with us on earth. But, I know that God is Sovereign. Every moment is planned. God doesn't make mistakes.
Tonight...
I thank God my precious boys and each moment I had with them here on earth.
I thank God for Abby, Jude and Jordan and for the amazing people He created them to be.
I thank God that He allowed me, chose me, to be a mother to these precious little ones.
I thank God for other mothers who have lost babes and yet have chosen to trust God, praise God, and glorify God in the midst of their grief.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
April 18, 2003- Saying "Good-bye" to Jonah
Good Friday started off like any other day. We had stayed at the hospital because Jonah had not had a good night. His BP was low and his urine output was minimal. We woke up in the breastfeeding room and Jon went to go check on Jonah while I pumped. As I was preparing to label and freeze the milk, Jon came out and said that they were going to switch Jonah back to the conventional vent and that I should come in. We watched the changeover and then Al told us that we should go and get something to eat and then we could have a cuddle with Jonah in a private room. I still don’t know why we left him... we had never left him when he was so vulnerable in the past. One of us would have always stayed with him while the other took a break, but this time we both left him. We trusted Al and the staff and were looking forward to cuddling our little boy for the first time. We went to the coffee shop and were finishing our bagels when Margot came down and told us Jonah wasn’t doing well. I knew in my heart that it wasn’t good, but I still silently prayed for a miracle. As we entered the room, Al was solemnly unhooking Jonah from his machines, wrapping him in a blanket, and handing him to me. I numbly sat in the rocking chair as I was handed my son to hold for the first time. Within minutes, his heart stopped beating and he was gone.... GONE! Although we had told him several days earlier that it was up to him and God when he would stop fighting, I wasn't ready. He was. He stopped fighting to stay here on earth, and went to join his brother Josh in Heaven. We cried as we held his lifeless body. His little body was still warm. He smelled like the baby oil I had used to massage his tiny head the day before.
We spent all day with Jonah, holding him, cuddling him, and crying for the babies we had so desperately wanted to take home. Until Jonah died, I hadn't really allowed myself to grieve for Josh. Jonah needed his Mummy. When Jonah went to join his brother, I was free to grieve.
Al waited outside our door in case we needed anything. When we were ready, we asked him to help us bathe Jonah and take pictures for us. Debbie Hogan came in on her day off and made impressions of Jonah’s hands and feet. Our families arrived and were able to hold Jonah and say "good-bye". After they left, Jon and I said our last good-byes to Jonah. Leaving him in the room by himself was the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do. I couldn’t take his "cheering section", his collection of stuffed friends, with us. It didn’t seem right to leave him alone even though it was just his body, not really him. I knew that Jonah was already with Jesus and his angels. I knew that he was with his big brother Josh. I knew that he felt no more fear or pain.
My chest was heavy. My heart was broken. My eyes couldn't cry enough tears.
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