Walking With You.... Sibling Grief

Walking With You was created to help support those who have lost a child. Together we share our stories, helpful information, scriptures, encouraging words, prayer requests, and more. This week we are talking about sibling grief/the next pregnancy. Click on the button in my sidebar, "Walking With You," to get more information.

Having to have my three children brought up to my hospital room to be told that their brother died was heart wrenching. I told them that mommy got really sick and Isaiah wasn't strong enough to "make it." I didn't know what else to say. Isaiah wasn't sick. He was a fighter through all of the problems in my pregnancy, and I refused to take that from him. The kids never knew what "sick" really accounted for. You can't explain to young children about blood clots, D.I.C., blood transfusions and almost bleeding to death. They know that I almost died, because of the comments that others would say around them. These people should have been more careful. When I do get sick, I don't want the kids to worry that something bad is going to happen to me again. So I have used this to "show" the kids how God had a big plan for Isaiah's life and that the Lord still wants me here with them so I can take care of them. That seemed to do the trick, for that fear anyway.

I would have to say that out of all three boys, my youngest son, Parker, has had the most difficult time with the loss. My friend that was taking care of the kids at the time, said that when she was driving them home from the hospital, Parker had huge tears rolling down his cheeks, repeating over and over, "why did they take my baby?" That broke my heart. I wish that I could have held him when he needed me. I wish the children didn't have to wait until they are adults to really understand what really happened. It would put a lot of closure to all of their unanswered questions. I guess that you could call it an "open/raw pain."

A couple of months after the loss, I had brought Parker home from school, and I asked him what sounded good for lunch. He didn't answer. So I kept calling for him, and a minute later, I found him laying on the floor, between the coffee table and couch. He was holding Isaiah's picture and quietly crying. His little heart ached for his brother. What could I do? I told him how much Isaiah loves him and that he is right here with us, even though we can't "see" him. I told him that he could give Isaiah a kiss on his picture. That seemed to help. He did that for quite awhile.

We will never stop speaking of Isaiah. He is as much a part of this family, as anyone else in this home. We talk about him every single day. I am very serious when I write, EVERY SINGLE DAY. On Thanksgiving, a special candle was lit and placed in the middle of the dinner table. On Christmas, he has ornaments and a blue stocking under the tree. On his birthday, my friend got him an angel bear that sings "Jesus loves me," I lit his special candle, had a poem put in the newspaper, I made a cake, we took balloons to his grave and we even put a couple of hot wheel cars on his stone. That is my little boy forever. I will never stop including him. I know all to well, the way the world looks at me when I do these things for him. I really don't care what anyone else "thinks." After they have had to walk what I have, then they are more than welcome to share their opinions. I may sound angry, but I do have to say that I get really sick and tired of hearing others opinions/concerns. It can be a real "slap in the face." I don't need advice on how to raise my boys that are alive and with me, and I surely don't need the advice on how to mother my child who has passed. I'm the one who has to live with the loss every single day.

Six months after the passing of Isaiah, my husband and I had a little one on the way. We were all thrilled! I was extremely scared that something bad was going to happen in that pregnancy. You never look at life the same way as before. I was told that the problems that occurred in my last pregnancy were a fluke. That wasn't the case. Something was not right in my uterus. We don't know what it is. The only guess, scare tissue. After two weeks, I started having problems when I was pregnant with Ezekiel. It had been the same issues that I had in my pregnancy with Isaiah. My children started to ask the question, " is this baby going to die too?" Half way through the pregnancy, the blood clots had cleared, and the bleeding had stopped. I delivered a healthy little boy in October 2009.

On some of the days following Isaiah's death, I barely got through each hour. I truly don't think that I could have said good bye to another child. God has done a miracle in my last pregnancy, and I will never stop giving Him the glory that is His.

We will continue to cling to the Lord through the great loss of our Isaiah. God is in control. After all... "He's got the whole world in His hands."

~Jenny~

The Sea of Grief

Walking With You was created to help support those who have lost a child. Together we share our stories, helpful information, scriptures, encouraging words, prayer requests, and more. This week we are talking about the early days of grief. Click on the button in my sidebar, "Walking With You," to get more information.

The Beginning Of My Journey

When I first got home from the hospital, I was so weak, I sat on my couch as soon as I walked through the door. It only took a few minutes for me to realize that I had sat in that same spot waiting for the ambulance to get to my house a few nights prior to this great loss. That was the last spot in my home that I would hold my little boy... in mommy's tummy. I lost it. How in the world was I going to go on in life?

That first night at home, my husband helped me get the boys to bed, and then he crashed out on the couch about fifteen minutes later. I remember sitting at the end of my bed looking out my window. I had to figure a way to change what happened. I started going through everything in my head, and figure out a way to save Isaiah's life. I came so close to calling my doctor at her house and letting her know how we can "change" what happened. I had only been a CRAZY WOMAN that first night. I told my mom about it the next day. I look back, and realize that I should not have been alone that first night.

After a few days of being home, I started to pack up all of my maternity clothes. I couldn't stand looking at them! I would have done it sooner, but I couldn't barely stand. Let me remind you, I almost bleed to death, and had around sixteen units of blood given to me. It was a miracle that I was still alive, and I'm at home packing a garbage bag full of clothes. That's how much I didn't want to see them.

I had to be very careful around my children for a long time. I don't know how many times a day that I would go and lock myself in my bathroom and cry. I didn't wank my boys to see me crying all of the time. There were many times that I just couldn't hold it back, and they still would see me crying. Doing the dishes, laundry, driving in the car, etc.

A lot of people would ask me how I was doing. I would just say fine. I think if I replied, " I just want to die sometimes," I probably would have had a lot more attention than I wanted. I didn't want to talk to anyone, unless they had buried a child. There were two women at the time that I knew had shared in the same loss. I felt "normal" around them. I walked with one of them at the cemetery a couple months after loosing Isaiah. It was a blessing to just walk and talk with someone that was just like me. So much changes in your life, you become a "new" person. I was able to share my feelings, without being told that Isaiah was in heaven and happy. I already knew where Isaiah was. I didn't need to have it repeated over and over again. I needed to have someone just listen, and not say anything.

To end my post on early grief, I would just say, please don't tell me your sorry that I loss my baby. If you lost a child who was of an older age, I wouldn't say, "I'm sorry that you loss your teenager." You would have loss your son/daughter. I loss my son. A little boy that would have ran around with his brother's, rode bikes, ate pizza, played baseball, needed his boo boos to be kissed, blew out birthday candles, opened Christmas presents, went to his first day of Kindergarten, and would have run up to me and wrapped his arms around my legs saying, " I love you mommy." The loss is endless.

Walking With You... Naming Our Babies

It's Monday once again, and we are walking together with hope. This week, we are sharing how we chose the names for our babies and any special meaning behind them.

~ Isaiah Christopher Ross ~

This name is so special to me. It represents love. It represents a little boy I call, son.

Isaiah: God is my salvation.

Christopher: Christ-bearer.

When my husband and I chose this name for our son, we wanted it to be from the bible. We picked this name before we found out that we were going to have a little boy. (I like to have the names picked before we find out what we are having.) Isaiah's middle name is after his daddy. So that is something special that my husband shares with his son.

It's not till after he passed, that I realized what a special name he was given. God knew what he would be called, and gave us the wisdom to do so. I had been given a certain peace, when God revealed to me, the meaning behind, Isaiah... God is my salvation. When I read that soon after his passing, I felt so much purpose for Isaiah's life. He was planned to be with us for a very short season. I include my pregnancy in that time frame. He was alive. Before I could feel him moving inside me, I could feel his spirit. I had 19.5 weeks with him. Not just the fifteen minutes I was blessed with his warm body in my arms.

God, is Isaiah's salvation. I know he is with our Lord. Worshiping and praising the One who created him. I look forward to the day, when the Lord calls my name, and I will be holding my son once again, for eternity.

I only have a few people in my life that will mention Isaiah's name. When Isaiah is talked about, it's primarily on my blog. It hurts me that people are too scared to talk about him. They are afraid that I will hurt, if his name is spoken. I hurt no matter what. I hurt when I awake in the morning, through the day, and when I stare at my clock while falling asleep. I guess it's just one of those things that people won't ever understand, unless they have "walked in your shoes."

Please mention my son's name. He is so special and loved by his family. He was here. He didn't get to jump around and play with his brother's, but he did in his mommy's belly. I didn't get to rock him to sleep while he sucked his thumb, but he did in his mommy's belly. He was my gentle spirited boy. My Isaiah Christopher.