Late July Air

There is something about the air in late July that takes me back to my old bedroom, getting ready for Isaiah's burial.

Dressing myself in a dress made out of black and white fabric.

The dress pulling tightly around my postpartum belly.

Putting on my new black dress shoes, and a couple pumps of his perfume.

I took that brand new little black bible in my hands and looked up a verse of hope. Nahum 1:7, and placed a photo of "mommy and Isaiah" in between the pages.

I gently took six white roses from the dozen that were sent to my "empty" hospital room, and carried them out the door with me.....



Almost two years later, in the late July air, I go shopping to prepare for that special day.

It's going to be his second birthday.

A day that will be celebrated in spirit and tears.

August 3rd. will bring with it, a cake baked and decorated for my precious son.

Having to be placed at a table with an empty chair, plate and clean fork.

Empty party hat, untouched noise maker and candles that will be blown out by his mommy.

"Happy Birthday," sung kneeling next to a marker that reads: Isaiah Christopher Ross.

The wind carrying our ballons and letters up to heavens door.

I know without a doubt, that he will feel all of my love embracing him.....

After all, he holds a piece of my heart.

Are You Listening?

A few days ago, I went to go water Isaiah's plant, and God spoke to my heart.

This is what happened...

I went and filled a container with water, and knelt next to his plant. When I was finished watering, I started to talk to my son. I was wiping the cut grass off of his stone, and then I saw it...

A couple drops of water had went directly under the eye of Jesus. He said, "Jenny, I see all of your tears, and I hear you cry to me. I cry with you."

Then, as I looked at the grass where he lay, the shadow of my head and shoulders went over it perfectly. He said, " You are, and will always be his mother, and you will be with him again. For now, I hold him, and care for him."

At this point, I felt so full of the Holy Spirit.

I got up to leave, and while getting up, I looked over at the van where my boys were. There was my Ezekiel, looking at me with the most angelic face, full of peace, made by God. He said, " This is the miracle I gave you. I have blessed you. Enjoy these boys."

"Live."

God spoke a new song to me that day. He told me to live. It's okay to live and not feel guilty.

God will speak to his people.

Are you listening?

My Time

This is my time. My time to grieve. As time continues, so does my grief.

I sit hear, and just can't seem to find the right words to type. As you have heard or read, a million times over, there just aren't any words to sum up this great loss. Maybe, a mother's cry, from the depth of her soul is enough. Or, the quiet weeping in the shower at night, that can only be heard by the Lord.

Isaiah's birthday is approaching. This makes me so sad. I watch the ticker in my sidebar, continue to count the days since goodbye. It gives me a sick feeling deep within my stomach.

A little over a week ago, I went and planted Isaiah a beautiful plant at his grave. As I dug the little hole, the words, "You did this to him," played over and over again in my head. It hurt so bad.

It takes every ounce of my strength, to hold myself together when I walk out my door, or go out in public. Home, is my safe place.

I really don't think that anyone has "caught" on to my pain. I do a VERY GOOD job covering it up! I don't want to talk about it. I will fall apart. I can only write about it.

It's very painful to see my child's face "etched" in the faces of his brothers. It makes me sad. I wish that I could have gotten to mother Isaiah. In a way, I guess I feel like I failed him as a mother.

I don't want to hide away from the world, but for now, I just need "my time."