It's been 17 years since my first baby was born.
Grief can be a funny thing. Some years are harder than others, some are easier; you never know what each year will bring you.
Grief brings joy: it reminds you of the beautiful memories you had. I remember feeling the very first kicks in my belly as a pregnant mom. I remember reading out loud so he'd hear my voice. I remember holding him in my arms for the first time.
It also brings a different kind of joy, where I am reminded of the blessings around me now- my two beautiful kids, a husband that loves me, family, friends, the list goes on and on.
Grief brings heartache: it reminds you of the painful memories. I don't remember many parts of my labor. But I remember when he came out, I was so worried that he didn't cry and that he looked pale and a little blue. I don't remember how he smelled when I first held him. But I remember everyone crying around me, knowing the reality of my son's lifespan with a diagnosis of Trisomy 18. I wasn't crying though. Because I remember the HOPE I had while he was in my arms, that even when they called time, "2:45 pm," for his last heart beat, I still believed for a miracle. Even after they had to take him away after a few hours, I still believed they would come rushing back, yelling that a miracle did happen.
And when no one came, and I was transferred to my postpartum room, with a white rose on my door as a symbol of my precious boy, I still didn't cry. That night was a blur to me. I don't remember if I felt numb, sad, or angry. But I do remember when I got home...to an empty crib... and brought in the empty car seat...the untouched clothes...that is when I finally broke down.
I remember the sharp, stabbing pain in my heart like it was yesterday, as I wept in that room. It's the same pain I sometimes experience during this time of the year.
Some years have brought complete sadness. Some have given a little joy. Very few have given complete peace around this time. But one thing I know for sure, every year, it brings me closer to my Savior...and that is where the real miracle is.
The comfort, healing, peace, and deep love that only comes from Him. Allowing Him into my heart and life and transforming this broken girl from the inside out...that is the miracle, all because of God.
"O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?"
1 Corinthians 15:55 says, "O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?" A recent sermon at my church (Truly: Steadfast and Immovable), reminded me that because Jesus took every ounce of the poisonous sting upon himself, we don't have to fear death, or any pain that is associated with it. He gave His life, so I could have mine, so my son could have his eternally.
And although I may not understand why my son only had 23 minutes to live on this earth, I know that because of what Jesus did, I will get to see him one day again in heaven, where his body will be complete, whole and without any illness.
Grief can bring joy. It can bring sadness. But the fact that it brings me closer to Jesus every year, as heart breaking as it can be sometimes, my soul is thankful.
For anything that brings me closer to Him is truly a gift.
Until we meet again, my precious CJ...
