December 2008....... 3 years ago

Lately, I have felt the sting of death tugging at my heart. I find myself daydreaming of the things he would be doing and saying at the age of three.

Isaiah was scheduled to enter this world, via c-section, on December 16, 2008.

The O.R. contacted me a couple of days prior to the scheduled surgery. In a cheerful voice, the woman on the phone asked to speak to Jennifer Ross. I answered, " this is Jennifer." She went on to tell me that she was calling to give me my arrival time to have my baby!

Standing in the kitchen, with my mouth dropping open, trying to catch the pieces of my heart breaking, I quietly spoke the words, "my son died a few months ago." She went on to apologize for the "mess up," and let me go. At that moment, I could have just died.

Throughout the weeks, I must have went to his grave almost every single day. At one point, I had struggled so severely, my sister contacted my doctor. I was absolutely traumatized by the death of my son. It was just not something that happens every day in my world.

I was so sick, dying in a hospital bed, being told that my son needs to be taken out of my womb. Just like that! Choosing the end... of beautiful life. It goes against every belief I hold in my virtues. The feeling that overtakes my body, literally makes me ill.

The loss of Isaiah has definitely been a painful journey. The months of August and December are my hardest to get through.

Christmas day is not only emotional because Isaiah isn't here with me.......

it was his due date....... December 25, 2008.

My precious Christmas baby......."unwrapped" 145 days too soon.......


~please hold me in your prayers~

A Beautiful Visit

Today, the boys and I went and picked out a Christmas wreath for Isaiah's grave.



This picture is priceless, and a little hard for me to look at. It tugs at my heart.




When the boys all talked to Isaiah, that was a little emotional for me too. It was a beautiful moment.




Sleep in heavenly peace my precious boy.......

Here With Me

There are times I have to try to find God. Not that He isn't there, but I have turned. Not deliberately. I just get covered in day to day life. From wife duties to children duties, and all of the mundane work of running a home properly. It can be exhausting!

A a child, I have always believed in God. I didn't have any deeper thoughts on the subject of heaven or God as a young girl. I guess that's the child like faith that Jesus speaks about in the bible. I never had a second thought about this God who watches over us day and night. He was my Protector. His love was infinite.

Then, as I grew into a teenage girl, I began to rebel. You know, it was the "cool" thing to do. It was about pleasing the world, so that I would fit in the world. No second thoughts on how wrong I was, or who I was hurting. I was literally trying to survive my adolescent years.

I can't say that my early twenties brought much glory to God either. Just getting through each day was my goal. I had three awesome boys so far, and life. "Live it up," right?........... wrong!

Throughout the years leading up to the age of twenty five, I was clueless. Not as a mother, or how I was raising my children, but as a child of God. I would say my prayers of thanks when something was for my benefit, or I would say a prayer for my boys when they were sick, and I would get so scared. The prayers weren't from a faithful servant. Just a mother surviving day to day life.

A few months after turning twenty five years old, I experienced REAL fear. For one week straight, I was begging God for His mercy and grace. It was on that 7th. day that I found Him. I mean, I really found Him. I had this fear within me, knowing how Great He is. I could never let go or walk away from the most priceless treasure that I had just uncovered within my soul. He had been there all along.

Within months of "finding" God and having a real relationship, my life began to grow. God knew when to draw me closer. He opened my eyes and had me see things that breaks His heart.

My own children, have been used in aiding in my spiritual growth. From almost burying my oldest son, to actually face the burial of my fourth son. The tragic death of Isaiah, has put a profound understanding into the death of Jesus, and how God chose to let His son die, to save us, His precious children. I know it's not the same case with the loss of Isaiah, when compared to Jesus, but when I cry for my son, it puts a whole new perspective on how God must have felt when He watched His son crying out in pain being crucified, and then forsaking His son.

When I pray now, and I ask for forgiveness or healing, and I ask it in the name of Jesus, there is life behind my words. It's so powerful.

I don't know the purpose behind this post. I was praying before picking up my pencil and notepad, and I heard God whisper, "write." As I mentioned in the beginning, there are times I have to try to find God. Not that He isn't there, but I have turned. Not deliberately. I just get covered in day to day life. From wife duties to children duties, and all of the mundane work of running a home properly. It can be exhausting!....... but I am never alone. Whether it be in the beauty or mess of life, He is here with me.



1 Chronicles 16:8-12

8 Give thanks unto the LORD,
call upon his name,
make known his deeds among the people.


9 Sing unto him, sing psalms unto him,
talk ye of all his wondrous works.


10 Glory ye in his holy name:
let the heart of them rejoice
that seek the LORD.


11 Seek the LORD and his strength,
seek his face continually.


12 Remember his marvelous works that he hath done,
his wonders, and the judgments of his mouth;

Last night...

It seems to hit during the quiet moments....

the pain...

the anger...

the trail of tears streaming down my cheeks...



I quietly shut the door to the bathroom,

close the lid to the toilet,

sit...

put my hands to my mouth...

and quietly weep...



I miss him so much at times, I feel like I physically cannot handle another day.....



Then morning returns,

with it brings joy....

only a joy that can be given by our God.....

Happy 2nd. Birthday Ezekiel

Today, we are celebrating two beautiful years with Ezekiel. Every day has been a blessing. I put some time into thinking how I wanted to write a post for Ezekiel, but I couldn't put anything together that came close to the story of how this little miracle boy came to be. I'll just simply say, he wasn't "supposed to have been," BUT he is..... he is alive, healthy and vibrant!! A simple "thank you" to God will never be enough, but raising this little boy to know his Lord and serve Him daily, is my biggest passion as a mother..... to all of my boys.

I copied last years post, because I really want to share the precious story of my son. I updated his sweet pictures on the post too.



Dear Ezekiel,

When I reflect on the past two years, I can't help, but be taken back to the nine months of my pregnancy with you. I'll never forget seeing the pink positive line on my pregnancy test. With excitement and fear entangled as one, I called everyone I knew. We were having another baby!

Ezekiel, until you're older, you may not realize what a true miracle you are. At five weeks pregnant, my body started to fight what God had knit in my belly. I started to bleed and have the same problems that had taken place with your brother, Isaiah. To say that I was terrified, would be an understatement.

I went in for an ultrasound, and there was no heartbeat to be found. My heart sunk. My soul was crushed. Why?.....

The next day, because of the amount of bleeding, daddy took me to the E.R. They told me that I was miscarrying.

On the drive home, I could feel life inside of me. I could feel that you were still hanging on. I would NOT give up on you! I refused. I prayed with power from the depths of my being, a prayer of a mother that just can't say goodbye to another child.

GOD HEARD.

GOD ANSWERED.

People throughout the world began to pray. On their knees. In the morning. Throughout the day. At bedtime. Spreading the word.

You began to grow. Kick. Suck your thumb.

The blood clots began to go away.




We found out that we were having another little boy. How wonderful!



Each week, I got to watch my belly grow.



On the morning of October 16, 2009, we were preparing for your birth. I had this weight on my shoulders, full of fear. Fear of death. Is my child going to be born alive? Is my body going to be able to handle another birth? Another surgery. I pray unceasingly.



At 9:21 a.m., you take your first breath of life...... I exhale the cloud of death that consumed my thoughts, and took my first breath of hope.



You are our sweet angel.



My rainbow.



You have brought this family so much joy. Happiness. Laughs.



You are not a replacement for the loss of your brother. You are a beautiful addition to our family.

God took my broken heart. My broken dreams........ and filled my arms.

Thank you God.

You ARE good!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY :o) Ezekiel Isaiah Ross :o)

I love you.

Beautiful start

It's been awhile, but I'm still kickin'! lol

I have been working on a special post about Isaiah's birthday. Only problem... it's still written in my head! I haven't actually typed it out yet. lol Procrastination??

This morning, something really neat happened to me, and I just had to share it. It's my birthday.... not a big deal. The only big thing..... the number 30.... OUCH!

Anyway, as I was getting ready to take the boys to school, my littlest buddy entered my heart.(sigh) I wondered if he would show me something today..... a rainbow would be nice. :)

As I sat in the car and reached for my keys that were buried deep in my purse, there it was...... a rainbow. (One of the boys had hit their head on the dome light while getting into the car, which was the source for the rainbow to be created.) It was a complete rainbow. Covering my legs and steering wheel, were all of the colors of Gods beautiful rainbow. I felt so happy at that moment.

For one moment, I felt like I had all of my boys with me. I did. God held us all together. Nothing could have been sweeter, not even a piece of cake.......

Happy Birthday Isaiah Christopher ~Three years in heaven~

My dearest Isaiah,

Today, is a day that has become one of the hardest to face for me. For the last three years, my soul has emotionally and physically ached over loosing you. From the moment your heart stopped beating, I let a piece of my own, journey into the heavens with you. I refused to let you be without your mommy.

I often get up at the crack of dawn, open my windows, and listen to the birds chirping their beautiful songs. My eyes graze over the dew covered grass, and I begin thinking of you. Thoughts of heaven travel around in my head. I sit and ponder all of the ways that you have been enjoying heaven these last three years. There must be so much beauty, peace and love surrounding you. I can only imagine.

I pull your picture close to my eyes, so I can see every intricate detail that God had formed so perfectly, so beautifully. My hands long to gently rub the back of your little head, just as a mother does when she cradles her newborn against her breast.

I count each little finger on both tiny hands, and I picture you holding up three little fingers after I ask how old you are today. I can just hear the precious words, "I'm thwee mommy!" I know that I would ask you the same question over and over again, because of how sweet you would have sounded. I'm quite sure that you would have gone running through our home full of excitement, telling your brothers that it's your birthday! What a sight that WOULD have been.

I may not be singing "Happy Birthday to You" while you're sitting at the table with your cake in front of you, but I know that your great grandmother Eleanore has already sung it to you. She was known for her beautiful voice, always making one feel like the most important person in the world. Give her a hug for me. (sigh)

I love you Isaiah. I cannot express enough, how special you are to me. You are a part of our family, and I will never let you be forgotten. There has not been a day that has passed without you filling my thoughts. I will never be the same.

I'll love you always... (tears)




Love,
Mommy





Happy Birthday to my littlest buddy.

As I ...

As I knelt down next to his stone, with the special plant I picked out and bought, my eyes welled up with tears. Not just tears of sorrow, but tears that I had yet another beautiful gift to give my son. This plant represents my love as his mother- with a deep red color to shower him with love.

As I dug the hole and removed the seed and roots from the year before, it brought an injustice to my soul. The pebbles of dirt rolled off one another, and teased my aching empty arms. Just a little further, lay my son. So close, yet so far away. (sigh)

On my knees, with dirt filled nails and palms, I took it all in...

the smell of the moist earth...

the hot sun beating on my neck and the back of my arms...

the insects traveling over weeds and blades of grass, and an ant racing over his stone...

I took this very special plant, buried it a few feet above my son, and whispered to him some very special words.

I left feeling accomplished. I'm just a mother, loving her child.

Tears trickled down my cheeks, As I drove away.

Wishes

Do you ever wish that you could go back in time and do something different, or make a different choice? Of course you have, just like the other millions of people out in the world.

There is something that has really been bothering me the last couple of days, and I really struggled with it yesterday. I figured that I would share it. It always seems to help when I write down my thoughts.

When I was allowed one final kiss and good-bye with Isaiah, I forgot to take something off of him and take it home with me in my box of treasured keepsakes. I made sure that he was wrapped in the pastel knitted baby blanket that I had held him in for twenty four hours and his soft newborn infant hat. I left my love on him with countless mommy kisses.

But I forgot one thing. His bracelet.

Later that day, after returning home, I dialed the funeral home as quick as my fingers would move, and asked that nice man to take the bracelet off for me. He quieted his voice and spoke,
" Mrs. Ross, the only problem is that I have already sealed the casket."

I don't remember what I had said after hearing that, but I will never forget the feeling that consumed me. That's the same feeling that I have been feeling for the last couple of days. The feeling of loss and regret.

If I had only remembered that tiny piece of plastic.

I can't think of anyone else who I would rather have holding onto it, than my sweet Isaiah...

It's All I've Got

My husband told me the other day about a man that he had met awhile back, and how this man was talking about how his wife never could get "over" the loss of their daughter that had been killed in an automobile accident back in the 80's. Not that she ever "got over it," but had not accepted the loss. He was very concerned about her overall health in general. (Those were the other mans words, not my husbands.)

My opinion, not that anyone is asking, is simple. I really don't think it's about "accepting" the loss, but having faith with the loss. I have never accepted the loss of Isaiah. To tell you the truth, it sounds disrespectful to be told to accept a loss that is priceless. We aren't talking about the stock market. My loss, crashed beyond what any stock market could "touch." But, I still invest in my faith. That's something that I can hold onto. That's something that can grow over time, and still go up and down through the months, but it's an investment that you can't go wrong in. The Lord is your "faith broker"... "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." -Jeremiah 29:11

Not that I'm the "all that" faith believer, but I don't want to loose sight of what the Lord wanted to teach me along this hard journey. I want to hang on as tight as possible.

I'll choose to invest in my faith.... It's all I've got....

4 Years Ago, Today

4 years ago, today, my son Caleb had to have a brain tumor removed. I have copied and pasted the same post I originally wrote three years ago. I never have written this post over, because the experience was extremely emotional and I find it very hard to put into words.

I still have times when I have an anxiety/panic attack when Caleb tells me that he doesn't feel good. It just sets the fear in me all over again, taking me right back to that moment in time when I thought that I might really loose my precious son. There are no words to sum up this experience. Here is my post...

First, I need to start out by saying how emotional this post is for me. I'm very teary eyed every time I talk, write or think about my son Caleb and all that he has endured. Four years ago, my oldest son Caleb had to have major brain surgery to remove a golf ball size tumor.

I want to share with you the short version of Caleb's story. There is way to many things to recap, things I don't even know how to put into words. The whole experience has been unforgettable in every way.

Caleb was six years old when this happened. He was having headaches on and off for about a year. Before we found out that he had a brain tumor, he was starting to have new signs of problems, other than just headaches. When he laughed, he would say that his head hurt while we were playing around with him. A couple of days prior to finding out, he couldn't walk very fast either.

On a Saturday night at 1:00am he woke up screaming in pain. I took him to the ER immediately. After sitting up in the bed for a little while, he was all smiles, not hardly any pain. He had some molars coming in, and so I asked the doctor if that could be causing the headaches. He said it could be possible. The doctor offered a CAT scan, which I turned down. I asked him how long it could wait until it was absolutely necessary. He said no longer than a week. I know, you are probably thinking that I'm crazy for not getting it. I thought that he would have to have an IV and be put through a bunch of painful tests. I was terrified!

The next night at 1:00am he woke up screaming again. I picked him up out of his bed and took him to the ER immediately. We took him to have a CAT scan right after he was signed in. The doctor said that the scan had to be sent through the web to Australia, because there weren't any doctors there at night to read it. I knew that something was really wrong. It's a mother's tuition, you just know when something is wrong. So I laid in Caleb's bed holding him ever so tightly, and was praying, praying and praying.

A few hours later, the doctor came in with the nurse, and if anyone has been in the hospital and received bad news, you already know that the doctor always brings a nurse with him when it's not good! He said, " I don't know how to say this." I didn't even sit up. I knew. He is going to tell me that my little boy has a brain tumor. He continues, " There is a mass in his head." He showed me where it was in Caleb's head. It was in the region controlling coordination. He had asked me if I want to see the scan. I replied, "yes." I remember staring at the picture of the CAT scan, and I said, "so does this mean he's going to die?" The doctor said, "I really can't tell you that." I could see the outline of his face on the screen, that's when the whole thing became "real" to me.

I remember calling my husband, who was at home with my other boys, and I began shaking uncontrollably. I made some more calls to Caleb's father, grandma and our pastor. (Yes, Caleb has a different dad. Nothing I'm proud of. The divorce that is. I was previously married. I was eighteen, way to young... sad situation, but we are able to be civil now, which many parents of divorce are not able to do) Anyway, plans were made promptly to have Caleb taken to DeVos Children's Hospital in Grand Rapids.

Before Caleb was taken to have a three and a half hour MRI, I laid in his hospital bed with him. He fell asleep, and I just looked at every part of his sweet face. I sang some songs. Prayed, prayed and prayed. I knew that they were going to keep him totally sedated from the MRI all the way through surgery. This was going to be the last time that I was ever going to talk and hold him alive... if he didn't make it through that surgery alive. (tears....) At that moment, I thought about all of the good times, and everything that I wish that I would have done differently.

The nurses woke him up around 11:30pm on May the 22nd. and told him that they were going to give him a little nap. I got to tell him "I love you," and then the doctor started putting the medicine in his IV to sedate him. After that, the doctor gave him a medication that stopped all muscle controls. He was then put on a respirator. Yes, I watched, until he went limp from the muscle medicine. I walked out to the nurse station in the ICU, and quietly wept. When they were finished getting him set up, they wheeled him to MRI. I sat in his room for three and a half hours. When he came back, his ears were filled with tears. At that point, I felt like I was literally dying. I felt helpless. I asked if he was crying, the nurse said that it was the medication that does that to the eyes. To this day, I just don't believe that.

I sat by his bed, in a hard chair, and held his hand all night long. To watch his lungs get pumped up with air by a machine, was overwhelming. He would keep waking up and try to take the tube out, and the nurse would have to come in and give him more sedatives. I can't imagine waking up and not breathing on my own, and having a tube down my throat at the age of six. After going through the night and half the morning like that, the doctor came and got him at 10:30am on May the 23rd. Our pastor was there that morning and prayed over Caleb. I walked down the hall by his bedside until we came to the "double doors." I told him how much I loved him, and then they wheeled him through the doors. I stood there and watched them take my baby away. I watched him until I couldn't see him anymore. I broke down right there in the hall. I had never felt so empty in my entire life!

I sat in the waiting room with a bible in my hands. One of the nurses came in every hour and told me how he was doing. He did great! After four and a half hours, Caleb was brought back to the ICU, and I got to be there when he woke up. To hear him say that he knew where he was and who he was...... well, that was just pure bliss. I stayed by his side for five days straight. He had a shunt that had to be removed before he left, and that was pure, well you know, torture. He got to go home after five days. To go home so soon after brain surgery, that was a real blessing. Extremely scary too.

The doctors said that he was fortunate the tumor had a sac around it that didn't allow it to spread. I am certain that God had something to do with that! The tumor was benign. The doctors don't know what caused Caleb's tumor, but it likely had been there his whole life.

Through this whole nightmare, I have learned and grown so much. Life just "looks" different. I can say for 100 % that it had put the fear of God in me. Just knowing how much our lives are truly in His hands. It is completely up to the Lord when we will go and be with Him and all of His glory.

For the first year after Caleb's surgery, you could find me on my floor praying to God at 1:30 in the morning, every time he would wake up at night. I had been so traumatized through the whole ordeal, I had a really hard time going to bed at night, because that's when he had woke up screaming and we ended up at the ER with a brain tumor. Now, you can find me on my floor, kneeling beside my bed, thanking God for His unspeakable gift..... the healing of my son.

Thank you Lord for my sweet precious Caleb..... Thank you.

White Baby Roses

Yesterday, while driving, I got the sudden urge to go and visit Isaiah. Isn't it funny how that just sort of hits you sometimes? I didn't plan on it, then the next thing you know, I'm at a local flower shop buying tiny white baby roses. The flowers were so beautiful. One of the roses wasn't fully bloomed.... just like my precious Isaiah.

I sat the stem of roses gently on the seat next to me, which represented the seat that he will never fill. I kept picking up the stem and inhaling the aroma of rose, storing it deep in my memory, the scent that will rest above my son.

I wish I could yell as loud as possible, and tell Isaiah how much I love him, and for just a split second God would allow him to say it back to me. For now, I'll look upon the simple things in this world that appear before me, such as a colorful rainbow or delicate baby rose, that speaks to me, saying "I love you mommy."

Oh, how I love that little boy....

A Mother

A mother.

Some women are blessed to raise all of their children that they have carried and nurtured in their womb, others have had to learn on a day to day basis, how to live without their precious tiny sons or daughters that they have carried and nurtured in their womb.

I never believed that I would fall into the bereaved category. To tell you the truth, I had never heard of the word "bereaved," until Isaiah passed. I guess I really DID NOT want to even touch the thought of loosing a child. I would rather go blind or loose a limb.

This Mother's Day crept up on me, and when I realized how close it was, I silently dreaded the thought of getting through the day. Not that I don't love celebrating the blessing of my four boys that I love on every day, but it magnifies the feeling of loss. I feel like an incomplete mother. In a way, I am. I am required to take the strength that God unravels along the journey. His Grace Is Sufficient.

I read an article in The Compassionate Friends newsletter that was sent to my home, and after reading this article, it has changed the way that I will view Mother's Day, forever! It states on how Mother's Day really came about. You would have never imagined that it was really intended for the bereaved.

Here is part of the article. The history behind the making of Mother's Day....



"Mother's Day was the creation of a woman named Anna Jarvis in the early years of this century. Anna, who never married and never had children of her own, devoted herself to establishing a national Mother's Day as a way of honoring her beloved mother, who died on May 9, 1905. In Anna's view, her mother deserved a memorial because she had lived selflessly and endured considerable suffering-seven of her eleven children had died in early childhood. According to historians, Anna's mother mourned the deaths of her children throughout her life.

Anna insisted that the holiday always fall on a Sunday so that it would retain its spiritual moorings. Because of her efforts, President Woodrow Wilson finally proclaimed the second Sunday in May as Mother's Day. Although Anna couldn't prevent the new holiday from quickly becoming a marketing phenomenon, she did try. Speaking out against "the mire of commercialization" that threatened to engulf Mother's Day, Anna attempted to preserve her creation as a true "holy day," a time for solemn reflection and prayer.

Mother's day, then, was borne of a daughter's grief and love more importantly, it was intended as a tribute to a bereaved mother-a brave woman who lost multiple children but who managed to live with an abiding kindness and generosity toward others. I like knowing this background, and my attitude towards Mother's Day has been colored by the knowledge.

The holiday now makes me think of the common sorrow that links all bereaved parents. I feel a bond with Anna's mother that stretches over time and space. In a broader sense, the woman for whom the holiday was founded reminds me of people I've met at TCF who have continued to live productive, meaningful lives in the face of unthinkable loss. Finally, Mother's Day in its origins symbolizes both the joy and the vulnerability inherent in parenthood. Anna's mother knew all too well that from the moment a child is born, hope and the possibility of tragedy go hand in hand. She understood the fragility of life." .....(The piece of this article was out of The Compassionate Friends, written by: Barbra Atwood, Tucson, Arizona)



You may have already known the history behind Mother's Day, but if you are just finding this out for the first time, just as I have, I pray that your day is made a little easier, as you celebrate being a beautiful mother, knowing that this day is intended just for you.

A mother.




Holly sent me this beautiful picture in the mail. Thank you so much Holly!

Name In Flowers

Maryline e-mailed me this awesome picture a couple of weeks ago. Her daughter picked these flowers and she created this picture for me. I just can't express how much it warms my heart to have other people "hold" my son in their hearts.

Thank you Maryline!!! It's beautiful!

Easter 2011

When people talk or think about the grave, it can bring an awkward uncomfortable feeling, extreme sadness or even anger....... which I usually feel while visiting Isaiah, but mostly guilt.

Today, while standing over Isaiah's grave, I chose to hold onto my hope and leave happy. I look upon this picture, knowing that I will be reunited with my son, because of the precious gift of Jesus.

Happy Easter to my littlest buddy.

I'll praise you Lord forever.

First Visit This Year

I was dropping off a prescription for Parker this evening, and had twenty minutes to sit and do nothing. The thoughts of visiting Isaiah have been running around in my head a lot lately, so I decided to drive up the road to go visit my son. I went to one gate and it was locked, so I turned around and went to the other gate. I hadn't been up there since last fall, and to tell you the truth, I wasn't sure that I was ready for this visit, emotionally.

That little voice inside, spoke to me softly and told me to leave. I did have Parker with me, and I didn't want him to think that I can't even decide where to spend twenty minutes waiting for a prescription. It would be kind of odd to back up and leave the place..... I felt like it though. I guess I didn't feel like "feeling." I had done a pretty good job staying strong, or numb rather.

The gas slowly accelerated, as the car took me up the drive, around the corners, passing the number markers, and then there was my normal parking spot, by that beautiful birch tree. I put the car in park, as Parker sweetly reminded me of a memory of his, "Mom, I remember when you cried really hard the day we buried Isaiah." I said nothing, as my eyes began to fill with tears. I could feel my lips begin to frown as I tried not to cry. I opened the door as the cool air stung my eyes. Without a word spoken, we walked over to Isaiah's marker. I could hear the birds chirping, which brought a little peace to my soul, then the crunch of the dead leaves under my feet, quickly took me to thoughts of death and loss.

I could feel my chest get tight as I knelt down and moved the dead leaves on the grass above him. I just couldn't make it through this visit. I began to cry silently. Parker looked over at me, and asked me why I was crying.

I felt so full of sorrow at that moment, with visions of his soft little head, and tiny little body, all alone. I couldn't handle it. I kissed my hand and placed it on the sharp grass and told him that I loved him. I got up and walked away with Parker. I got back in the car, and I could feel a bunch of pressure in my head, trying not to fall apart.

I probably wasn't there for more than two minutes. I felt like I was abandoning him. I knew that I shouldn't have gone there tonight. I don't know why. I guess, just knowing how long it's been since the last visit, I knew that this was going to really hit me hard. It did.

I'll just say that Burger King became dinner for tonight. I am emotionally drained.

Picture of Little Words

I saw this picture today while shopping. I read it, and put it in my cart. It was as simple as that! With such little words written, they reached somewhere deep inside me, and hit that part of me that I hide away from the world.

The words took me back to the first moment that I saw my son. To the first time I saw his face and tiny body in the flesh, without a black and white ultrasound screen.

The beauty that lay wrapped in my arms........ took my breath away....

Amazing

The coolest thing happened to me this morning, and I just had to share it.

I was in the bathroom, brushing my teeth, and I started to think about how spring will soon be here and I can go visit Isaiah.

Then, I started thinking about how I haven't visited Isaiah one time through this entire winter. I didn't even go put a wreath on his grave, like I did the previous two years. I mumbled under my breath what a terrible mother I was.............

Within seconds of speaking those negative words, my oldest Caleb, started singing, "Somewhere Over the Rainbow!!!" He was at the kitchen table building with his Lego's and the other three boys were playing around making all kinds of noise. If you know Caleb, you would know how shy he is. He won't barely sing the words to "Happy Birthday," when there are fifty other people singing it around him! lol

God used Caleb.

Period.

He stopped me from the negative words that I was speaking, and the thoughts I was thinking. He once again reminded me that Isaiah is safe.

He reminded me that He holds and protects him.

He loves Isaiah beyond any love that I could ever give or feel.

He is love. Creator. Father. God.

I am blessed to be a daughter of the King.

I am blessed to be Isaiah's mommy.

I am blessed to have God share another "rainbow" with me.

Again I say, Coincidence......... I think not!

It was amazing....... music to my ears.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

                                                                  

Do you have a small or big miracle that has brought you hope lately? Link up with Franchesca and share with others on her blog hop of hope entitled Small Miracles.

Rainbows. If you have followed me long enough, you know that it is the rainbow that brings me hope along the way.

Before the loss of Isaiah, I had only seen a handful of rainbows in my life.

The morning, following his passing, there were three people who witnessed a rainbow, all within a half hour.......

I was in my hospital bed, in the I.C.U., slowly waking from the night before. Reality slowly crept through my memory.

My son........ was gone.

GONE.

Just like that.

I called my dad, who was on vacation at the time, and told him what happened to Isaiah. He already knew, but I didn't know that he had already been informed. I remember that my voice was soft and cracking, and I just listened to my dad weep on the other end. He said, "Jenny, there's a rainbow in the sky right now." I said, "There is?"  Through his tears, he whispered, "It's a double rainbow." He paused....... "He's safe with Jesus."  

Fifteen minutes after talking to my dad, I called Phyllis, my previous mother-in-law. I quietly asked her if she knew where I was. She began crying. She couldn't barely speak. She kept repeating, "I am so sorry Jenny, I am so so sorry." Then, she started to cry a little deeper, and said that there was a rainbow in the sky!

About ten to fifteen minutes after that phone call, my step-dad, Keith, stopped at the hospital to check on me before going to work. He walked up to my bed, gave me a kiss on my forehead, and said, "I saw a rainbow on my way here."

WOW! That's three rainbows in 30 minutes. My dad was in Massachusetts. I live in Michigan. Keith and Phyllis live 30 minutes from each other. They were not seeing the same rainbow.

I know that God gave me the symbol of the rainbow to hold onto for hope. Not hope in heaven. Just a hope that carries a calming peace along with it.

I seriously cannot believe how many rainbows I have seen since August 3, 2008. It's an amazing amount.

I was really struggling a couple of weeks ago and I wrote a post titled, "Praying. Healing. Where I Am....... Serious Post." During the time of that post, on my way to work one morning, there was a rainbow. I remember driving down the road, just talking to God, and I said, " if I just had one little piece of knowledge as to why this happened, it would make it a little easier." Immediately after saying that, I saw the rainbow. It wasn't like a normal rainbow either. It came straight down from the sky, just like a ray of sun beams down. I could not believe my eyes!!!! That was enough for me! Deep down, I know that there is a reason that is beyond anything that my mind could comprehend. I am so thankful that God shared His rainbow with me that morning. I sure did need it.

This evening, I went out to dinner with my friend Jen and her daughter Alexis, and I started thinking of my sweet boy. I usually will go off into some kind of "daydream look" when I'm thinking about Isaiah. As I was staring at the table, I noticed a rainbow right next to my glass of water. Coincidence........... I think not.

Somewhere over the rainbow,

way up high, in heaven...........

he is safe, in the arms of Jesus.

Praying. Healing. Where I Am........ Serious Post.

When I post my words on this blog, they have been straight from my heart. I have kept truth in every word I type. There have been many times that I wanted to dig deeper, share more pain, but I didn't want to hurt anyone or make them fall deeper in their own grief, for reading the words that I chose to write. After two years of blogging, I have chosen to do it. It's not anything crazy and so far out there, but it's a subject that I have only read about one time, out of two years surfing other blogs. I have other things weighing on my heart too.....

I'm going to start off with a comment that I left Kelly on one of her posts, after she had commented on my last post: (My comment below.)

"About my latest post, I sure don't mean to sound negative or like a broken record about my "problems." I truly want healing, and I just really don't know what to do. I pray, and pray, and pray, and I still feel so so bad. I usually numb the hurt for awhile, then it slowly trickles out. I pray that God is still using it for His glory, even though I'm still hanging onto it."

One of the struggles that I come across when writing, is not wanting to represent anything but Christ. I have no greater love, than that of my Lord. He can heal. He will heal. He DOES heal.

I don't want to write out my struggles and leave the post without any hope at the end. I really do walk around with a numb covering, just so I can get through the day. I do laugh. I do have fun. I do all of this, with an opened wound on my heart. It hasn't gotten better for me. This doesn't mean that God can't and won't heal the hurt or the loss. After writing Kelly about how I pray, and pray, and pray, I realized that in my prayers, I never asked God to heal me from the guilt. I prayed that He would give me the strength to live with the guilt. Talk about being deceived! 

I have also been reading through the book of Job, and have come across some verses that really tear at my soul. These verses are the part that I really don't think that anyone wants to think about, or care to read. I respect that, but I feel like I need to cross the "boundary" for those who want someone to do it, because they just can't do it. There is definitely a silent "no no," about speaking about the grave. I am deeply burden by thoughts of my sons grave and I really hope and pray that my respect that I have tried to "earn" on my blog is not lost. I am so so sorry if I "crossed" your boundary in grief.

Two verses that I read out of the book of Job:

*Job 19:26 And though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.

*Job 21:26 They shall lie down alike in the dust, and the worms shall cover them.

To be completely honest, I don't go through one day without thinking about it. I know that my sons soul went to be with the Lord. Our Creator is holding that sweet soul that He made with His own hands. He holds my son.

* 2 Corinthians 5:8 We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord. 

I believe every single word that is written in the Holy Bible. 

I struggle very deeply with the knowledge of knowing the natural part of death. I don't like knowing what is happing to my son. A mother has a built in protection system for her children. It doesn't matter if your child is a newborn, teenager or an adult. Each child leaves their DNA in their mother's blood. I have all of this protection that I have in me, for each of my children. I'm telling you, I am a very, very, very PROTECTIVE  mother! It troubles my mind to think of Isaiah and what has happened to his body.

Every time I go outside in the cold, I think about it. Every time it rains, I think about it. Every time it's been 80 degrees outside, I've thought about it.  With each passing season, I feel as though I am slowly loosing his tiny little body that I nurtured with my own. I feel as though little pieces of my strength pass with him. 

While I'm lying in bed at night, waiting for sleep to fall upon me, I wonder how he felt as his heartbeat slowly came to his last. 

Did it hurt him?

Did he feel the oxygen being taken from his lungs?

Could he hear his mommy whispering in his little ear, " I love you Isaiah Christopher."

Were the nurses 100% sure that he had passed, before being taken from my arms and placed by himself on the nursery bed?

Should I have had the nurses try to save his life, even though they told me that there was no way that he was going to make it? I could have had greater faith, and at the same time, I didn't want him to suffer for a handful of moments that he would have lived, in pain. I didn't want to loose the warmth and life that I held for fifteen minutes. One answer was right, and only God knows if the other was the one that I should have chosen. Was I supposed to be this women with faith beyond words, than that of the words that were spoken or knowledge learned through college, by nurses? Or, was I supposed to hold onto a faith, for the hope that I had held for my innocent little one? 

There is so much pain, I simply can't handle it sometimes. That's when you will come along a post on my blog that holds so much pain. Although I may appear to sound like a broken record at times, I am so thankful for the support that God has graced me with, on my blog. I am so thankful for the women who come along and just write a simple, " I'm praying for you." There is nothing stronger than prayer. God is within it all. He uses all of us, the broken hearted, to bring Him glory..... if we let Him. Just continue asking, begging if you need to. Cry to Him.

* Psalm 34:15 The eyes of the LORD are upon the righteous, and his ears are open unto their cry. 

* Psalm 34:17 The righteous cry, and the LORD heareth, and delivereth them out of all their troubles.

* Psalm 34:19 Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the LORD delivereth him out of them all.

 

I'm going to end with the comment that Kelly had replied to, regarding my comment written in the beginning of this post:

"Your latest post was just honesty from your heart about a difficult battle you struggle with...and I'm glad you shared it, so that we can pray and show love to you. We can't help how we feel. My friend, Lynette (in real life friend) says that God's part is always bigger than our part. That means that we don't have to strive to do it all right or have it all figured out. He will work in our lives and hearts in His time to heal, restore, grow, mend...whatever it is that needs dealt with. And, our part is small. It's not about us getting it right. He can work in and through us. Our part is just to keep clinging to Him. So, just keep clinging....He'll do the rest."

That's what I'm going to continue doing. Clinging to the Lord.

This post covers where I am.

Wow! After writing that sentence, I noticed the last two words.

"I Am." 

It looks as though I've been covered by Him all along! Thank you Father!

* Exodus 3:14 God said to Moses, “I AM WHO I AM." 

God is so awesome! Looks like He just used my pain and got the glory. I just love when He shows me special answers along the way. In times like this, it makes the pain worth it all. There is something gained and not lost.

I will praise Him forever.......