Roller Coaster of Grief

We buried Maddox on Monday, his due date. We laid him to rest under the branches of a beautiful oak tree in Historic Gold Hill Cemetery. It's peaceful there and only about half a mile from where Andrew and I got married exactly three and a half years before.

I can't believe I'm writing these words. It's days before Christmas and I am supposed to be caring for my newborn son. That's the hardest part now that he is buried. There's nothing left of him for me to take care of, nothing for me to do except try to survive this. I made it through the first week after losing him because I still had things to focus on for him: delivering him, meeting him, holding and loving on him, making arrangements for his visitation and memorial service, watching over him as they lowered his tiny casket into the ground and covered him up. Those were the ways I was able to love and care for my little boy and now, other than keeping his memory alive, I don't know how to use the energy I would be using to take care of him if he were still here.

These past three days have been the hardest. Our friends and family from out of town have returned home and it's been pretty quiet. The business of having company and back-to-back visitors last week helped me, distracted me. I'm most vulnerable in the quiet when I have a moment to think, usually in the minutes just after I wake up. The "why" and "what if" questions are the worst and I am trying not to do that to myself. There will be no answers on this side of heaven. Maddox's autopsy and the report on the placenta and umbilical cord came back "grossly normal". He was perfect, not a thing wrong with him. He was a normal, healthy baby boy. The placenta had detached a tiny bit from my uterus, but nothing unusual for how far along we were. Maddox was perfect, my pregnancy was normal. This is both frustrating and encouraging. Having no answers is hard, but that is where faith comes in. God kept Maddox for a reason and it may be painful and seem nonsensical to us now, but He is sovereign and we truly believe that in all things He works for the good of those who believe in Him. It is encouraging for there to be nothing wrong because that means one day, when we're ready, Andrew and I should be able to have other children.

One positive thing that has come from this is that I am donating my breast milk. I didn't know such a thing was possible before we lost Maddox. I got connected with a lady who is adopting a newborn through Marcia, the midwife who helped me at Natural Beginnings Birth Center. Her name is Donna and the baby boy's birth mom will be induced on December 29th. Donna came to the house last week and gave me a breast pump and had some nursing supplies shipped from Target. We've been communicating via email since meeting. She's a very nice lady. She and her husband are paying for all of my nursing-related expenses. Right now, I pump for thirty minutes every 4-5 hours during the day. I keep the milk in milk storage bags and once a bag is full, I put it in the freezer. I'm getting 4-8 ounces every time I pump depending on the length of time between sessions and I have twelve or more bags in the freezer right now. A nurse at the hospital told me how to dry up my milk, but I feel like my milk supply is a blessing and didn't see the sense in wasting it. I can't give this milk to my baby, so donating it to another baby is the next best thing.

I miss Maddox so much. Oh, I miss him and I always will. I don't see how I will ever fully recover from losing him, but I can at least cope. I have a great support system and an incredible husband. I am loved by an awesome God. I have a son who I got to love on earth and know for eight months and I will get to be with him again in heaven soon. This is the hardest thing I have ever had to face, but I know God, Andrew and our family and friends will help me through it.

I'm glad I could get some of this out. In this roller coaster of grief I'm on, there are times when I'm fine and can laugh and feel normal again. This is one of those times. There are also unpredictable times of overwhelming physically debilitating sadness. I don't know when another one of those will come, but until then I am going to try to get some things done around here.

I'd like to close with some of my favorite words ever spoken. This is the eulogy my rock of a husband gave at Maddox's memorial service on Sunday. He didn't write it beforehand. He knew he wanted to speak and trusted that God would give him the words he needed. That He did, that He did. I have never been more proud of Andrew or more proud to be his wife than I was hearing him say these words in front of our closest family and friends as we honored our precious little boy. The audio from the memorial service was recorded, so I typed this up from the CD we have.

I’m tempted to be a little selfish today, tempted to feel bitter and ask the question “Why?” Of course, when Amanda and I found out the news that came as a complete shock, that little Maddox’s heart had stopped beating, these are all of the feelings that were running through me and things that I was dwelling on. And as we’ve moved through this difficult process, something that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, I’ve struggled to find God’s will and God’s purpose through all of this.

It was especially difficult for me watching Amanda as she struggled through the pain of delivery knowing all along that we would see Maddox, we would see his little body at the end, but that he would not be here, that he had already left us. And as we struggled through that and he was here and we spent a few precious moments holding him, at last Amanda and I were alone, and my brave, beautiful little wife said “I would do it all over again knowing what I know now.” And at that point, God spoke to me and my perspective changed.

Our pastor Clint Pressley says all the time that God’s will is sovereign and that He uses people to carry out His will. I’ve been struggling to see God’s hand in this, but I have seen it through each and every one of you. I’ve seen it through the lives that Maddox has touched already. I’ve seen it through the courage of my wife. I’ve seen it through the love and support that all of you have shared. I’ve seen it through the lives of others, so many others who we’ve met just this week who have gone through exactly what we’re going through right now.

God’s mercy has been sufficient. He never promised that life would be easy, but He did promise that no matter what challenges in life come our way that His mercy would be sufficient to carry us through, and it has been sufficient.

I will miss some things. I’ll miss bringing him home. I’ll miss rocking him to sleep in the middle of the night. I’ll miss watching Amanda hold him like I saw her hold him in the hospital, calling him her sweet little boy and how much she loved him. I’ll miss watching him grow. I’ll miss each and every one of you spoiling him. I’ll miss watching Amanda let him get away with things that she’d normally fuss at me over. I’ll miss taking him to his first soccer game. I’ll miss playing with him and telling him how proud I am of him. I’ll miss being tough on him when he makes a mistake and having him upset with me but knowing that teaching him a hard lesson will help him to grow up and be a better person and a better man. I’ll miss leading him to Jesus just like my parents lead me. I’ll miss watching him fall in love with the girl of his dreams just like I did and getting married one day.

We’ll miss a lot but like I said, God has changed my perspective and I am sad. We all are. I miss him. But today, I stand thankful. God has taught me some valuable lessons through all of this. Life is too short and we all take entirely too many things for granted and I’m amazed to see the healing that God has brought to relationships and families even over these past few days. I’m thankful for each and every one of you. I’m thankful for your love and support and what you mean to me. I am so thankful that I still have my beautiful wife and I’m thankful that even though it was for only a brief time, we had a son and we knew him and we were able to love him. We will never forget him and we will think about him every single day. But I’m thankful most of all for salvation and that I know that my boy’s in heaven right now, far better off than any of us are. And I’m thankful that we will see him again one day and I can’t wait to meet him.

Maddox, if you can hear us today I want you to know that we love you so much. I don’t know that you would have had the best father, I would have done my best, but you would have had the best mother and the best family and the best friends. We all love you very much and we’ll see you soon.