Happy Birthday, Matthew

Happy birthday,

Matthew David

November 6, 2008

I love you!

I still remember the miracle of you - the sound of your heartbeat, your gentle kicks, the ultrasound pictures as you continued to grow. The day you were born - the feel of your soft skin, the detail of your perfect little lips, your dark hair, cute nose, and tiny precious fingers around mine . . . the incredible joy and peace showered on us that beautiful day by our loving heavenly Father who understood more than anyone else how much we loved you. I loved you long before you were born, the love magnified as a held you in my arms, and continues on until I see you again.

Your life changed mine.

I will carry you . . . all my life.

You are, and will forever be, our Matthew David, beloved gift from God.

Sleep well.

Love,

Mom

A Quote From Stacy

I have mentioned Stacy on this blog many times. She and her husband lost their son Isaac on the day he was born one month before Matthew’s birthday. Her story has been instrumental in my healing process. Sometimes her words seem to be coming directly from my heart.

Lately, most of my moments and days are good, I feel very blessed and even happy. But sometimes I don’t. What I read on Stacy’s blog this past Sunday helped to reassure me that during those incredibly painful moments when I am longing to hold Matthew, what I am feeling is “normal”.

In her words . . .

“The past couple of weeks I have been in a really tough place with my grief. I think one of the hardest things about that is that for so many, this is all "old news..." and for others, I feel as though they think I should be "doing better" by now. It's almost like there's this pressure to be over it, or in a better place with it all. To be grieving your child is a hard enough, and having
that added layer that I have been feeling lately only tends to compound it.

I know that the people who want me to be "better" are people who care deeply about me; but I don't think that they realize the pressure and hurt that it adds. It makes me feel as though this loss is something less than it is. And worst of all, it causes me to no longer want to be authentic for fear of judgement or for fear that I'm making other people's lives difficult by still having a hard time with the loss of Isaac... like somehow it's so hard on them that I am still struggling. But they are not the ones whose son has died.

Recently, I read an entry on Molly Piper's (daughter-in-law of John Piper) blog about what her grief looks like 17 months after losing her daughter, Felicity. Within that time, she and her husband Abraham have also given birth to another child. You can find her blog post here. When I read it, I was encouraged
in some ways...knowing that she is a Godly woman and is still struggling, even after having another healthy baby and even almost a year and a half later... Of course sitting here at 5 1/2 months I would be, too. Another blog friend who lost her twin boys e-mailed me a little while back and shared that around the 5-6 month mark was right when the shock of it all started to wear off and it really started to all sink in.

Please know that my intention in sharing this isn't to be critical; I truly do believe that people are well-intentioned and that in wanting me to feel better, to move on, etc, that ultimately, people care about me and Spencer and don't want to see us hurting. But we are. And that is just honest and real. Some days are fine, and some are even good; there are days when we laugh... but many days are still hard. We are making progress with all of this, but at least for me, the past few weeks I feel like I have taken so many steps backwards. But I know that grief is like that. It's not linear progress. It's a roller coaster with ups and downs, twists and turns. It's hard, it's exhausting, and it hurts. For it to be anything less than that wouldn't be real. God has been faithful in being a steady presence in the midst of it all, and I know He will continue to be. The bottom line, though, is that every day I carry around the heart of a mother who longs for her son and misses him more than words could ever convey. And that's a heavy cross to bear.

So I want to offer some encouragement to those of you reading who are friends and loved ones of someone who has lost a child. These thoughts come from things that we have found helpful, things that have been hard, and from other blogs I've read that have offered some great suggestions on this. I am definitely no expert or authority on this topic, but just wanted to share some things that we have found helpful."

1. Say something. There are a few people we've
encountered who have yet to say anything to us about losing Isaac. They know that it happened, but have avoided it like the plague. That is incredibly hard. If you're not sure what to say, saying "I don't know what to say other than I am so, so sorry" is a great place to start. Bereaved parents what so desperately
for their child to be acknowledged. And of course... say something to our Heavenly Father and pray for them.

Her first point is the one that resonated the most with me, but she has 9 others. Thanks to some really great friends and family who are willing to be my therapists, I really am doing okay. I just thought these words might be helpful for all of us to consider when we want so desperately to help someone experiencing pain.

If you would like to read her other suggestions click here.

Missing Matthew

Matthew, I miss you so much. I am thankful to know you are resting in the arms of Jesus, but oh how I wish you were in my arms. You were and always will be our beloved gift from God. I long for the day I will see your sweet face again and hold you close . . . in God's time. ~Loving you, Mom.

Thank you

Thanks for the prayers. It was a good day.

Back to School

If there is anyone still out there, please pray for me tomorrow as I go back to school. It know it will be bittersweet. I also know that the same God who has been carrying me all along will be very present with me tomorrow too.

God is good.

Video Tribute to Matthew

(be sure to stop the music player at the bottom of the page prior to viewing)

So Beautiful

I realized today that one reason this is so hard is that, like any mother of a newborn baby, I long to show everyone my son. When he was born I was simply in awe of how beautiful he was. I want to dress him in cute little outfits, wrap him in his soft baby blue blanket, and take him everywhere. I want to show off his perfect little fingers and toes, his tiny red lips , and his cute little button nose. I want you to feel his soft skin and be amazed at his head full of dark hair and perfectly formed ears. I keep looking at his pictures over and over again.

As you look at the pictures of our family, I hope you can see the joy we felt as we held him and stared at him, taking in every detail. You might think it would have been a time of great mourning and weeping, but instead my first thought was . . . "He is so beautiful!" Just like any mother, my love for him was extremely intense. I was so proud of him. I could hardly wait for his brothers, sister, and grandparents to meet him. And now, I wish all of you could have met him too. The fact that you can’t makes me sad.

On second thought, maybe I can have a baby shower in heaven where you can meet him . . . you are all invited. I hope to see you there!