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Monday, July 9, 2018

July is odd.


“And I will sing of, all you’ve done.
I’ll remember how far, you carried me…”

July is hard. The up and down of emotions, especially during the first 2 weeks. It didn’t used to be this way. It used to be carefree and easy. It used to consist of a fun holiday, sun, swimming and every summer fun thing you can think of. Then July 4 years ago happened.

July 12 to be exact. My world shattered. The worst day of my life. My Malachi went to heaven. After a 4 month long fight for his life in the NICU, he was gone. Just like that. Our life on the roller coaster of NICU life suddenly plummeted into darkness deeper than we’d known. I’d be wrong if I didn’t say I was angry, so angry, so hurt, so confused. How could God, who knows how painful losing a son is, allow this to happen to us? We who had been so faithful, praying, proclaiming his promises over our son’s life, now would have to walk life out without him here. But I learned so much. One of the most important things I learned while walking through the valley of grief was that the same God who formed me, the same God who made the heavens and earth; He can handle my pain, my grief, my anger. All are welcome at his throne. That gave me freedom. Freedom to experience every emotion, freedom to give Him the what for, honestly, wouldn’t you? That freedom allowed me to process everything, to deal with everything, to acknowledge everything. I had guilt for a long time. You see something happened the night before he died. I said something that haunted me for months and months. Let’s backup a smidge. The week before Malachi died was a rough week. He had been doing so well, and then wasn’t doing well. Episodes of almost losing him, bad news, one horrible report after another. Through it all we refused to think death would be his fate, instead we held on to hope that he would be the one who made it through. But it was a hard week. So hard. We were so tired. Mentally exhausted from the ups and downs, physically worn down due to staying with him nearly 24/7, while still trying to be present for our then 3 yr old at home. My heart broke knowing he was in pain. There was nothing I could do to make anything ok, but I did whatever I could. Sat by his bedside for hours on end, cherished the times they let me hold him, changed his diapers so gently. Normal mama things. But it was a hard, hard week. The night before he died I had spent the day at the hospital with him. We had dinner plans with some friends and decided to go to their house. Hubby and I prayed over him as we left, he gave me a sweet smile, LaRon said it was his way of saying “everything’s going to be ok mama”, I took a picture of that smile, and we left. That night I was talking to my friend and I said to her “I’m so tired, I’m so heartbroken and I can’t bear seeing him in pain. This is my prayer right now, I want the Lord to heal him, or I want the Lord to take him home.” The next morning, at 3:12am, I received a phone call that answered that prayer. Not in the way I wanted or imagined, but it was answered. Jesus had come to wrap my baby in his arms and take him home. Free from pain, free from his broken body. I suffered guilt for uttering what I had said to my friend that night before, maybe if I hadn’t said it he’d still be here. But looking at it now, I believe it was the grace of Jesus. His grace had brought me to a place to where I could say “Jesus, heal him or take him”, and mean it. You’re not every ready to hear that your baby has died. You’re not ever ready to walk that path of grief. But when I look back and see the goodness of God through it all, I can still stand and say God you are so good, so incredibly good to me.

“There wasn’t a day, that You weren’t by my side.
There wasn’t a time, that You let me fall…”

He has never left my side. From the minute Malachi was born, to his final breath, walking with my in the valleys….and rejoicing with me on the hilltops….

We received amazing news during Christmas of 2013, we were pregnant with twins. Their technical due date was August 8, 2017. I knew they’d come early. I prayed they wouldn’t come on July 12. I needed that day to be Malachi’s day, a day to remember him, not overshadowed. July 7, 2017 I go into labor, the boys were coming! Such great joy amidst mentally preparing for Malachi’s day. Our boys were born, they were healthy. I vividly remembering hearing Justice’s cry, I turned to LaRon and said “he’s alive” all I wanted was to hear that cry. My heart was overwhelmed with love as both boys were placed on my chest.  9lbs combined of pure love, healing, and redemption. Justice had to go into the NICU and it devastated me. How could I return to the place that just 2 years prior held the worst pain of my life? How would I react? Would I be able to push through the PSTD of beeping monitors and a NICU room to see my baby, to be there for him? I remember when they said I was well enough to go down and visit him. I got into my wheelchair and LaRon pushed me to the elevator, my heart raced, my breaths were short, I started to sweat. But I had to do this. As we descended we prayed together. The doors open and I sat face to face with the place that had been the place of so much pain. The doors opened and we walked through them. Straight to our Justice. And he was perfect. Seeing his perfect face, his window “seat” just like his big brother had. Every ounce of fear was drowned out in that moment with the perfect love for my son. I wept. I picked him up and I soaked up his newborn smell and wiped my tears off his tiny little head. One week he spent there. The day I discharged with Josiah, we were able to bring Josiah down to Justice and they got to be together, they instantly cuddled and it was the sweetest sight. The anniversary of Malachi’s death occurred during the week of Justice’s NICU stay. Enter more guilt…I couldn’t go. I couldn’t bear to be in the NICU on the same day I last held him. I tried. And I couldn’t. I felt horrible. The nurses (of whom almost all had been a part of Malachi’s life!) all assured me he’d be loved on and cared for so much. They held him and rocked him and fed him, when my grief didn’t let me. The next morning I got the most amazing call that he was ready to come home. Our Justice was coming home in the morning. It’s poetic if you think about it. God orchestrated each detail to leave Malachi’s day intact, but also show His goodness.

I will say that in my darkest moments of guilt and grief, God never left my side. Through the hardest time He held us up. Through the greatest joy, He stood with us on the mountaintop.

July is odd. It’s a mix of emotions of remembering the day we said our earthly goodbye to our precious Malachi, and celebrating the day we welcomed our twin miracles into our life. With the goodness of God and sorrow all mixed together; I push through. Remembering Malachi’s legacy, celebrating two baby boys who fill our lives with so much joy and healing; and pointing to Jesus every step of the way.

“All of my life, Your love has been true.
All of my life, I will worship you.”

6 comments:

  1. This is so awesome. Sending prayers and Gods strength to you this week.

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  2. i love you so much. I am so honored to call such a strong, loving, and God-fearing woman my friend and sister.

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  3. Your authenticity is breathtaking and beautiful! Thank you for the hope, joy and real you that you choose to share!! God is indeed faithful!

    ReplyDelete


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