The most beautiful service I never wanted to attend...

Malachi's service to celebrate his life was the most beautiful service I have attended. The most beautiful service I never wanted to attend. No parent should know the agony of what it is like to attend your baby's memorial service. I vividly recall sitting in the "family" room waiting for it to begin. Uncontrollable sobs wretched my body and I felt like my heart was going to explode. There were times I forgot to breathe. Getting up to enter the service I nearly collapsed. This couldn't be reality, this isn't happening, I just wanted to wake up from this nightmare. My husband nearly had to drag me through the doors. He held me up as sunglasses shielded my eyes and I walked the aisle. The same aisle we had walked to take our vows. The aisle where our life together really began, and the aisle where our "for better or worse" was tested to the limit. My gaze lifted from the floor and from behind shielded eyes I saw everyone who had come to celebrate my beautiful Malachi's life. Hundreds came. To honor us, to honor him and his memory, to remember him, to comfort us, to support us and to let us know most of all, we were not alone. Soft music played. A beautiful photograph taken of us in our final moments with Malachi was displayed. His favorite books, tiny hats he wore, blankets lovingly made for him and the squeaky toys from his nurses he loved so much were all displayed. His things. I clutched the blanket I held him for the first time with and for the last time close, along with a beautiful photograph a friend had framed. I still cannot believe this is happening. The service was opened, a reading of the verse we had chosen to represent him was read (Hebrews 6:19), worship music began to play and be sung. The hardest worship I have ever done. How can you worship God, who called your baby home and away from your arms? "Oh how He loves us" filled the air, and my husband arose with lifted hands and tears streaming down his face and showed me, how in this impossibly difficult circumstance, we can still arise to trust God and worship him. Even when the words won't come because you are choked with tears, God still knows our heart. "He's got the whole world in His hands.....He's got Malachi James in His hands"...I broke further. The pieces of my shattered heart felt like they broke even more. This is real. My Malachi is gone, we are having a service to honor his life. A slideshow played, the most hauntingly beautiful song "..tell me my love, is heaven beautiful?.." photographs of a life with so much impact..more tears, wretching/painful/excruciating tears, I realize there would be no more pictures, no more moments with my Chi..A poem/letter was read on behalf of my sister-in-love who was out on the mission field. Words of how she had longed to meet him, yet how much he inspired her and how much she loved him. My heart breaks further for our family members who never got a chance to meet this beautiful soul in person. If only he could've made it 20 more days. Why now God? A friend who has become like a sister to me (and even that doesn't appear to be a good enough title for who she is to me) spoke on mine and LaRon's behalf. The most beautiful words spoken, so honoring to the legacy my Malachi leaves with us. I had asked her to honor his nurses specifically. She knew how much they meant to me and the words were perfect and as they were named individually, applause filled the air. I would've applauded them for hours for them to know how much they mean to me. After all, aside from me and LaRon, they knew him best. They were my constant connection to my angel. His eulogy was read, my own words to honor his life, how do you sit through hearing "he is survived by...." This can't be real. Our Pastor, Rick Cole, took the podium and delivered the greatest sermon, through tear filled eyes. A sermon of hope. A sermon of holding onto that hope. "sometimes our treasures get there (heaven) ahead of us; I think that's something worth holding onto..." Truth. Hope in the midst of the darkest circumstance we have ever faced. Hope that anchors us. Then it was over. complete, closed with prayer. We walked back out of the sanctuary into the reception. Friends and family wanted me to sit down, to eat, oh how I have the greatest support around me. All I wanted to do, though, was join my husband in hugging, crying with, and thanking all those that came to honor Malachi's life. So I did. We stood together, united. It felt right. Memories were shared, stories shared to us of the impact he'd had, love was overflowing to us. At the end of the reception we did a balloon release. Light blue, because our Malachi's eyes were turning blue and they were beautiful. Balloons floated high, wishes, memories, messages going with them. Tears again. It was over.
We have heard from many that Malachi's service was so impacting, life changing and beautiful. We are so thankful that even in his passing, his life continues to touch so many. It helps us to know that this journey has not been in vain. Everything about his service was [horribly] perfect. Perfectly chosen program design, words, music and mementos to remember a life gone too soon.
Thank you to everyone who was able to be with us that day, and everyone who was with us in spirit to help celebrate the life of our tiny warrior. We will hold those memories forever.
It truly was the most beautiful service, that I never wanted to attend.

That night..

Our new reality is life without one of our sons here on earth. It is hard, it is physically painful [I know what a physically broken heart feels like], it is exhausting, it is excruciating. I don't think we were prepared to lose him. We had some amazing days with him and everything seemed to be going in the right direction, even though they were the tiniest of baby steps. Then a Friday morning came with a 5am phone call from the hospital that Malachi had coded, but they were able to get him back and he was doing 'ok'. The rest of that day included doctor visits from pulmonology, ultrasound (for an echo cardiogram), cardiology, and ultimately the chief neonatologist. The chief informed us that the echo had shown that Malachi's pulmonary hypertension had severely worsened since his last echo 2 weeks prior, even the cardiologist was shocked at how much worse it had gotten. His heart was severely enlarged and not effectively pumping blood through his body. The doctor told us they just didn't know what this meant. Sometimes this issue heals with time and other times it does not and leads to death. There is no specific treatment, there was nothing they could've done even if they had seen it earlier than when they did. LaRon and I spent a lot of time together with our baby boy that Friday. We prayed over him, for one MORE miracle, we kissed him, we read him his books, we held his hands, kissed his perfect face and features, told him how much he was loved, then went home to our 2 yr old. 3:12am my phone rang, the nurse told me Malachi was coding and we needed to get to the hospital. The rush ensued, we left the house in record time. 3:23am my phone rings again, the hospital, I think a part of me knew what was happening, I didn't want to answer it. I did. The doctor with the most heartbreaking, earth shattering, faith testing, horrible news a parent could ever receive. All I remember her saying was "I'm so sorry Mrs.Gordon, I have some sad news..." she was gentle [as can be], I shattered into a million pieces. I remember screaming "no, no, no" over and over and over. The ride was a complete blur. We got to the hospital and to his room, I saw him and collapsed, LaRon helped me up. They had a private room for us that they took us to, then they placed him in my arms. For the first time I got to hold him, like 'normal', and see him without all the tubes and wires and beeping of machines. He was beautiful and perfect in every way. Immediately family came to be with us and to say goodbye. Nurses that had become a part of our family came to grieve with us. There were a ton of tears. Who am I kidding, there still are. We spent hours with him. One set of Malachi's godparents had taken Deuce for us, and towards the end of our time they brought him to the hospital. A moment I had wanted for so long about to take place, a moment I had wished for every day of this journey, but a moment I hated was happening that way. The 4 of us would finally all be together. Deuce would get to 'meet' his baby brother for the first time. Deuce was so sweet with him. So incredibly sweet. He knew who Malachi was and kept saying "that's baby Chi" (he's the one who nicknamed him, even before he was born). I was holding Malachi and Deuce was on LaRon's lap next to me. Deuce pointed at his nose, eyes, ears, and mouth (he's very into naming these) then kissed his forehead and gave his baby brother loves. It's a moment I will treasure forever. The first moment I felt we had really become a family of 4. I think the second hardest part to getting "the phone call" was when it came time to leave the hospital, with empty arms, to kiss his perfect face one last time and lay him in a crib and walk away. Arms now empty and aching to hold him just one more time. A few days later we had a beautiful memorial service for our Malachi. Hundreds came to celebrate his incredible, yet too short life(I'll blog about that in the next post).
The words of love and encouragement that have come to us have been incredible. The stories of how Malachi touched so many lives are what holds us up and helps us to know that this journey was not in vain, we received a card from a family member today saying that Malachi's journey had brought her family back to prayer and back to The Lord, a Kingdom Changer our Malachi was/is. LaRon and I were even able to find some miracles in this horrible circumstance. Our baby boy has received his ultimate healing, he is no longer suffering or in pain, there are no more surgeries to endure, and he is being held by a greater love than even I have for him. He entered heaven completely pure and blameless, few can say that. Heaven trumpeted his arrival and the book of life didn't even have to be checked for his name, how incredible. A gracious miracle LaRon and I are also thankful for is that The Lord took him immediately, there was no suffering, his heart just stopped and never came back beating, we didn't have to make any decisions as parents as to stop care or for them to stop trying to bring him back. That is something that early in this journey we had prayed that if this situation came that The Lord would take him immediately and we would never have to choose. The Lord is gracious, and kind. We are comforted in knowing that God knows what our broken hearts feel like, as his son had to die too. We are confident that God will stitch the broken pieces back together, and even though it will never again look the same we know God will bring healing to our family.