Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Six Months - here we are...

Today marks six months since the day we lost our precious son, Isaiah.  Happy 6 months in heaven, sweet boy.  How is it that half of a year has passed?  In those first days I don't think I could've imagined living for six months without our child - in that pain for that long.  On the other hand, it may seem strange to say, but it kind of feels like years have passed since that day.  Sometimes there is no good way to explain grief.

I explained to the kids last night what they were like when they were six months old.  They were fascinated by it all - and wondered what Isaiah is doing right now in heaven (obviously probably not learning how to sit up or eat solid foods).  Caleb asked, "do you think Isaiah is a little boy?"  The things we'd all love to know.

Lydia - hugging Isaiah's bears

I'm not sure I can clearly say how we are doing, but I can say that things are different...different from even a couple of months ago - maybe even different from a few weeks ago.  I'm not sure how to explain grief to those who have not experienced it, but it really just keeps changing.  It keeps ebbing and flowing, it is always there, but it is strange how it changes and my approach to it also has to continue changing.

I recently heard something like this and it resonated with me regarding my recent feelings.  It is kind of like after a long winter, when one day you walk outside and you realize that there are leaves on the trees...spring had sprung and somehow you'd missed it.  The changes had to have been gradual - day by day - cold thawing - buds emerging - leaves slowly opening, but if you hadn't paid attention, one day the leaves just showed up.

As the months have passed and I've written updates, I've tried to recognize those small changes.  I knew that somewhere in all of the days of anguish, sorrow, disappointment that things were changing, but all of a sudden - sometime recently - there were buds on the trees and I could breathe differently.  Next there were leaves forming and I could smile about Isaiah...even if the next moment brought tears...at some level I could smile.  It is true that the trees are not the same.  The winter's cold was damaging...there are scars...some areas are not as healed as others...these trees will definitely never be the same again.  But signs of healing are there.  Life has returned - even on some of the most ragged of branches.

I hate phrases like "getting over it" or "moving on" - I don't think I will ever be able to describe it that way.  Allowing oneself to realize that healing is what God wants for us is so important - that by healing, we are not forgetting Isaiah or missing him any less - but we are LIVING the life that he would want us to and that God has for us.  By allowing ourselves to experience hope, change, and healing - we are allowing Isaiah to change us forever - to shape all of our days - instead of living in the past that will never be.  It is so painful to realize, but it is true - our life on earth with Isaiah will never be.  It may not seem like it, but God's plan is better - and though we suffer this loss - someday we will see what God sees and we will understand.  Until then we will still be sad about the loss, but we will not stop living.  We have so much to live for - including remembering Isaiah and recognizing how his life has forever changed us - but most importantly for the purposes God has for us.

Now I can say all of the above logically, but still sometimes feel sad emotionally that I have seen healing in my life these past few months.  I know that sounds bad, but it is true.  Even though I know this is the right direction to be heading, I can't help but feel like we are leaving Isaiah behind.  But I have to cling to truth.  When those emotions arise, I try to FEEL them and acknowledge them so that I can do what I need to in order to continue remembering Isaiah and yet still let that part of me heal.  Do I want to be healed?  Yes and sometimes no.  But I think realizing that I will NEVER be the same and will always remember and talk about Isaiah is enough for the part of me that doesn't want to be healed...my heart is catching up with my head on this one.

Flowers from my sweet husband today

I know I have said it so many times - but THANK YOU for loving us, praying for us, listening to rambling words about Isaiah, patiently waiting to see glimpses of who we were.  I know understanding the people we have become cannot be easy when you were used to the ones we were, but thank you for trying anyway.  God's grace and your love -- these are the reasons we have made it here.

Here we are.  Six Months.

We are grateful and hopeful...but we still really miss him.


  1. I have read the whole story of Isaiah and I was crying ... I do not know what to say ..... Nothing is more devastating than the loss of a baby. You are exceptionally strong woman!! Isaiah will remain forever in your hearts. Mila

    1. Thank you, Mila. Knowing that people care for us and care to know about and remember Isaiah means so much...thanks for reading his story and caring. <3

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