A wise son makes a glad father, But a foolish son is the grief of his mother.
This is my oldest son, Samuel's big brother. He is a gift from God. His name means "Jehovah has given".
He has really grown up during my pregnancy with Samuel. In the early months I was so tired and slept a lot. He kept the younger ones occupied for me. But after we found out Samuel would die, he went into overdrive. I cried often and I could see he was always trying to gauge how I was doing. I would be in the kitchen wiping my eyes and catch him looking at me, to see if I was really crying or just cutting onions. Many times I wished I could hide this all from them, that they wouldn't see me cry, wouldn't see their Mama falling apart. Sometimes when I would cry, they would just stare at me, like you might look on at an accident as you drive by. It was something new and strange. Other times, they would rush to me and hug me. This son seems to have become more of a man. Now when he sees me cry he comes to me and hugs me and says, "What is it Mama?"
As much as I wanted to sheild them from the horrible reality we were experiencing...I couldn't. And although it's natural to want to hide your tears, to cry in secret, that would have been silly. Do I really want them to think that we could lose a son, their brother, and be perfectly fine and normal?
I want them to know how to go through hard things. Real things. When they get older I want them to be able to say to their families, "We lost two babies and it was very hard on Papa and Mama and us kids, but God held us together, we grew closer, we cried, we leaned on God, we praised God for things we couldn't understand, we asked that He be glorified through them somehow, we read the Bible and prayed as a family. That is what we will do in this hard situation we are in. They got through it by holding onto God and we will too."
Like I said, at times I have been sad ontop of sad for the innocence they have lost, and yet, what changed people they have become, like us.
We are different.
We have all been changed.
It has all come by the Lord's gracious hand. As much as I wish this wasn't happening I don't want to change what He is doing in us, because He knows. He knows so much better than we.
And I trust Him more.
More than the pain.
This son whom we call "T1" which stands for Treasure One (our first treasure) has also grown to love and appreciate his little sister more, if that is even possible. We have loved this little girl from the moment we met her and have greatly enjoyed our days with her. But this son has learned what a miracle a healthy baby is. One day a few months ago, he looked at his sister and told me, "She is growing up so fast. I will know Mama. I'll know to hold my babies."
The day after she was born, he came into my room and said, "Mama, I just want to say thank you. Thank you for having her. I just thought that I should say that." That was the nicest thing I think anyone has ever said to me. It was so sweet, that he would say thank you for carrying her and giving birth to her because he loved and enjoyed her so much after one day. He was seven at the time.
When everyone came in to see Samuel after he was born, they all crowded around Papa who was holding him. It was such a sad, sad moment. It was very quiet, no happy squeals or people oodling over his fingers and toes, only sober faces and hushed voices.
It's not for wimps.
The people that were there for us, had to go through it all with us...twice. And I can tell you, it's a whole lotta no fun. Dad, Mom, Laura, Desiree, Dawna and Renee had to walk into that hospital room knowing what they were going to face.
Heartbroken people...and a sweet little dead baby.
I felt bad for them too.
Papa asked if the kids wanted to hold him, my oldest said yes right away. It was his baby too. It seemed he knew it was something he should do, he was doing what Papa did.
He sat there looking at him for a moment, then he broke down.
The day I realized I hadn't felt Samuel moving and was going to the birth center to have Desiree listen for his heartbeat I pulled him aside and told him the truth about what we were doing. He simply nodded at me and said, "Okay."
On the drive we were listening to the dramatized audio version of John Bunyan's book, Christiana. He was sitting in the front seat beside me. There is a saying that is said often in this audio, they say "The bitter must come before the sweet." When it was said, he looked at me and nodded. He didn't want me to miss the truth in it. He was always trying to help me to see God in the midst of this trial.
The night we came home from the hospital, my husband put the boys to bed. I heard sobs from the bedroom. T1 had said to my husband, "I wanted to see his first birthday. I wanted to see him grow up."
It hit me.
He feels like we do.
It was his little brother that he had hopes and dreams for too.
God is grooming him to be a great Papa someday.
I was driving in the car by myself the other day. Thinking and crying about Samuel. I was thinking about what a helper this son has been during our time with Samuel. What a blessing. What a gift...when it hit me like a ton of bricks.
Jehovah has given him...to us...to show His love for us.
He is his name.
A loving gift that made me cry all over again in gratefulness to God.