Three Months

Three months ago we experienced an anguishing combination of great joy and great pain as we met and said goodbye to our little boy, Isaiah.  Three months.  If you would have asked me on April 2 how I would feel in three months, I don't think I would have been able to even imagine living each day until July 2nd.  But we have.

Isaiah's smile has been on my mind.  What would it have looked like?  He would be smiling and finding his voice about now...would his slimmer face have stunning dimples like his Daddy's?  Would his voice be silky smooth like his brother and sister, or husky?  What would our days look like if he were here?

Sometimes it seems like we are betraying our child by choosing to live - choosing to survive - choosing to let go of bitterness when it sweeps in - choosing to let go of the anger when it grabs hold - choosing to cry and embrace - trying to grasp hold of the healing that Christ gives.  (I have had many thoughts about our choices in this journey - but I'll save that for another post)

In so many ways it seems wrong to look for some type of healing for this wound.  We know it won't ever be fully healed, but allowing a scar to form will give some comfort and help the wound change -- yet sometimes I wonder if ripping the scab open is a better choice?  Would keeping the loss of Isaiah raw for myself help remind others that he existed?  Would it help remind them that he was loved - that he was lost - that we are sad...so, so sad...lest people forget?  I know it is natural for me to want him to be remembered, but I must ask myself the question - does my sadness need to be present in every moment to keep him alive in the minds and hearts of others?  In thinking of what the rest of my life would look like if it were only lived in sadness, I hope the answer is no. 

THANK YOU - to our wonderful friends and family who have taken the time to remind us that you haven't forgotten.  You let us know that you still think about a beautiful baby boy named Isaiah - and you tell us so.  Thank you so much, friends - you have kept me going on many, many days of this journey.

Knowing that you remember gives me permission to allow myself to want things to be better.  To realize that it is OK to receive Christ's love and care - a balm for our hurting hearts - and desire for things to get better -- this is good.

If I think about it - even if, as the months go by, people do forget about Isaiah (which I have read is inevitable to some extent) - though it will make me sad, this has no bearing on the validity of Isaiah's existence or his life in heaven.  Why do I think that helping others remember will somehow keep him alive?  Though I know it is OK to feel this way because I'm his Mom, He IS ALIVE -- to an extent that we cannot comprehend -- and any amount of my sadness or others' remembrance of him (or lack thereof) will change that.  We have lost, but he has gained.  Who doesn't want what is best for their child?  The truth is that even though it is natural to want him with us and we are very sad that he is not a part of our lives here, he already has what is best.  Praise be to God that we know this and can trust and hope for the day that we will meet our child in heaven - ALIVE.

So here we are - three months later - still living.  We are a work in progress, just like before, but our world was rocked after holding this beautiful child that was so much loved - but lost.  As we consider how our lives will look now, I often think to myself that I don't want to "let him go."  I know we need to find a way to live after having lost - and being sad seemed like a good way to remember Isaiah. 

But then I realized that when we choose sadness, bitterness, anger - this is when we are "letting him go" (not that I want to ignore all of these feelings - we do need to fully feel them...more on this in the post about choices).  We are not remembering and holding onto the gift of Isaiah by living that way -- we must grasp hold of the beauty of who he was in order to allow his life to make us better.  Choosing to live IS choosing to honor and remember him.  We will never "let him go" in our hearts.  Living for Christ with Isaiah's existence shaping our hearts is exactly what will honor him and Christ - and help us remember who Isaiah was -- a gift -- not a loss.

I know you are smiling in heaven today, sweet boy, and I can't wait to study your beautiful face.  For now we will try to imagine.  Still missing you.