Four Months

My brother sent me these pictures of the kids earlier in the week. They were taken outside the hospital as we all sat outside together on June 29th, waiting for the medications I had been given to induce labor to take effect (when you are facing infant loss, you get different privileges, like being allowed to sit outside in the fresh air during your induction).

These pictures strike an interesting chord with me. They are actually some really great photos of our kids. However, looking at them is, for obvious reasons, heartbreaking. In a way, these pictures show my children with an innocence that would no longer exist just 12 hours later...when they were brought into the hospital room to hold their baby brother who had already left this earth.

The picture of the two of them sitting on the picnic table is interesting to me. As Connor looks upward, Kylee looks more toward the ground. I feel this is an interesting parallel to the journey we have been on since losing Caden four months ago. Desperately looking towards heaven for comfort, and at the same time, feeling the weight of the situation dragging us down. As you look at this picture, you can see the peace in both of the kids' faces. Amazing.

This month has been a tough one. I said goodbye to my Grandpa on October 2nd. I have since been struggling to wrap my mind around the last two years...why on earth God would ask me to say so many good-byes to people that I love the most. I haven't found an answer to that one yet. I am struggling daily to feel His peace. Some days are better than others. The image of my Grandparents, my Mom, and my son all together in heaven is a beautiful one, but also one that evokes a certain amount of jealousy and sadness in me. Someday I will join them, but for now, I am blessed to be here amongst my family and friends on Earth.

I wonder what Caden's legacy will be. I have a sense that He was sent to us as a part of something bigger...and we are searching for what that legacy is. As I reflect on our experience, it seems a bit surreal that we went through such a long and painful process. In some ways, the pain is so fresh it feels like yesterday. On other days, it seems like it has been 4 years instead of 4 months. The newness of the grief is wearing off a bit, and in its place is a sort of grief that is almost more difficult to bear. It is the grief that occurs when you realize that your arms are empty, that right now, Caden would be 4 months old...receiving his second round of immunizations and learning to play with baby toys....the shock wears off and in its place is different pain.

I miss our baby. Connor opted to share about Caden on his show-and-tell day at school earlier this month. He took Carl, his Build-A-Bear that was created in memory of Caden, and a picture of him holding Caden to show his classmates. They asked great questions, and our oldest son fielded them like a champ. It was the first thing out of his mouth when he found out it would be his turn to share..."I want to tell them about Caden". I was able to be there when he shared, and it was incredible. Kylee asks, on occasion, to watch Caden's DVD. Sometimes I try to talk her out of it because I know it upsets her, but she is insistent on seeing her baby brother. We hold her and watch the images flash up on the screen. She now has her favorite pictures and her favorite songs on the DVD. She gets a Kleenex and settles in for a good cry. We shed some tears together (she often uses her own Kleenex to wipe Mommy's cheeks, too), trade hugs, and then she goes on with her playtime. Our kids teach us so much about life....and I am so blessed that they want Caden to continue to be a part of our daily lives. Sometimes we need to share him with someone who didn't previously know of his existence....and sometimes, we need to take a quiet moment to look at him and just cry because we miss him so much. It's all a part of healing.

I ask for your prayers as the holidays approach. When we found out we were pregnant, one of the first things we dreamt about was having three kids with us at Christmas. I know that this season will be hard as I mourn the loss of both Caden and my Grandpa. I pray for joy in the midst of sorrow. Hearing the Christmas story this year will hold a new meaning...Mary anticipating the birth of a son whom she would later watch on the Cross. While I would never pretend that I could even comprehend that moment in Mary's life....the death of her son....in some ways, I feel that we were called to make a similar sacrifice.

To our Caden...you are so deeply, deeply loved and treasured. Your presence in our family is not diminished because you are not here. We carry you with us each and every day...in our hearts and in our souls. We look forward to being reunited with you in heaven...when we can hold you, touch you, smell you, kiss you...get to know you outside the womb.

Thanks for being our precious angel.