We are Jedidiah.

My mother was hospitalized this week, and during a particularly dire time, she was quite apathetic.  She was unable to acknowledge my presence due to the illness, and when I got her to look into my eyes, her lack of emotion and “with-it-ness” terrified me.  Her eyes were glazed.   I begged God to take from me the lasting memory of my mother’s apathetic eyes.  Because another memory had tortured me.  I was taken back to Jedidiah’s eyes.   I felt paralyzed, just as I had with Jedidiah’s last look.  Yet, his was a look of terror.  How can the extremes of terror and apathy create the same feeling of despair?  Is it simply knowing that I was unable to relieve or comfort the ones I love?

After hearing about a mother taking cookies up to the PICU where her daughter died, I really wanted to reach out to the staff of Vanderbilt Children’s.  Jim has been working and will continue to work full time (with overtime, thankfully!) through the new year.  So, Monday I set about preparing the goodies and getting myself ready to face Vandy alone.  Tuesday dawned, and I realized that I just couldn’t do it.  I don’t want to walk those halls without Jim by my side.  I had many treasured hours via ultrasound and after birth my boy there.  I just couldn’t go.

Thankfully, Jim understood, and we hope to go sometime after the new year when he has time off again.  I hope the Vandy team knows how much they impact the lives they touch.  What a special group of folks!!!

When I was pregnant with Jedidiah, I craved hamburgers.  This is especially odd since I hate hamburgers.  During our first trimester, Jim got me hamburgers three out of four days.  One of those days, he splurged and got us all burgers and dogs from Five Guys Burgers and Fries.  Oh, man was that delicious!

I hadn’t thought of that day until yesterday when I drove my the Five Guys restaurant.  Five Guys… five guys… Jedidiah was my five (fifth) guy.

A few days earlier a young lady at church who did not know me asked how many children I have.  Because I know that the next question is almost always “How old are they,” I answered, “4.”   ((In certain situations when I think it will be upsetting to the hearer or to me, I do not answer, “5” because if they do ask, “How old are they?” then I don’t have to deal with their emotions or mine if I am not strong enough.))   At the same moment of my answer, another girl answered, “5.” The first girl asked, “How old are they?”  I answered, and then quickly pointed out that Nikita was embarrassed for mentioning my five guys, but that she didn’t need to be.  It warms my heart when I know that others value Jedidiah and his impact just as much as I do, and I hope Nikita knows how much it meant to me to hear her say, “5” without hesitation!

Along the same lines, Jim and I received a card in the mail from the marriage and family pastor at our church.  It wasn’t a typical Christmas card.  He specifically wrote to us about Jedidiah, about this Christmas not being what we had hoped or planned for.  His remembering my sweet boy touches the depth of my soul.

Have a blessed day!

After posting my last entry, I went back to reading the story of sweet Ruthie Lou who lived 33 days, touching lives and awakening hearts.  Her mama posted that “LIFE IS A CHOICE.”  Amie, those words are so true.  After reading Amie’s words, I ran upstairs to grab my phone, and my wonderful husband had texted an encouraging message about blessings.  Thank You, God, for answering my prayer and sending people into my life who build me up and help me through the tough moments.  It is a choice, a perspective, to see even the brief whispers of the good.  It is hope.

One year ago today we were trying to get morning tasks done in order to head out to “find out what we are having.”  I had tugs on my heart not to take the boys, but I thought I was being a ninny.  I will never forget the surreal sensation that something wasn’t right while looking at the ultrsound screen, but being brought in a second and then third time for ultrasound review confirmed my fears.  Although the doctors and techs say there is no explanation for why the screen showed purple when Jedidiah’s blood flow was being evaluated, I think that God was trying to prepare me.

My life changed forever with that splash of purple.  I knew.  I knew in that instant, an instant of color in a black and white sea.

The 8th is significant also because it was 8 months ago today that Jedidiah was born and died in my arms.  I have been almost scared for five days wondering how I would face today.  Can I just curl up in bed and pretend today isn’t happening?  How did I get 8 months beyond the death of my son?  I can’t remember his smell.  I can’t bring up the memory of his touch.  It is all fading so fast.  I want to focus on those positives, those moments of sweet perfection, but they are slipping away and no video or picture or outfit or hug can bring them back.  Please, dear God, help me to feel You today, because I can’t feel anything else in this moment.