To Share or Not to Share

I have struggled all week to decide whether to to post this blog online or to keep this private. Using Caring Bridge during Jeremy's illness was so helpful for a number of reasons. One of the ways that it helped us was the ability to journal through the experience of Jeremy's illness and battle to survive. This blog is essentially that, a way to let out the feelings that rage in my soul. I have wondered if people out there will have any interest at all reading about such a tragedy, such sadness, and such despair.

I have spent hours late at night, while I can't sleep, reading blogs of other family's that have lost a child. This has been so comforting. One of the ladies posted a message about what it is like the first few weeks after the death of a child. I decided I couldn't write it any better than she did. Booth Farley writes "There seem to be moments - days, weeks - in the midst of grief that can best be described as "emotional pauses." Things just stop and suddenly you feel absolutely zero. They're pauses because, of course, they don't last forever, but while they do, living feels somewhat like standing in the center of a whirling merry-go-round: the world around you moves, rides the tide of joy and laughter and sorrow and sadness and you - you're watching it fly past without a single movement. You are still and yet you are carried by the constant motion around you." Check out her website if you can and keep her in your prayers too.
http://conorbootheandgirls.blogspot.com/

This has been a tough week. My friend gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl. What a blessing! I wanted so badly to be happy for her and to congratulate her in person. I cried the whole way to the hospital and once I got there I cried for about 20 mins in the car before I had the strength to get out of the car. I knew I was going to the very place where I had delivered Jeremy just six short months ago. The images, hopes, dreams, and feelings from that day flooded back and filled my heart and soul. I ran into one of the nurses that had taken care of me all four times that I delivered at this hospital. She asked about Jeremy and how he was doing. I tried to answer the question without having to get into the whole story but my answers must have been too vague and she just kept asking. I knew I wasn't going to be able to get out of the conversation. So for the first time I had to tell someone that was more of an acquaintance, that Jeremy had died. So I cried some more. Then, as I pulled myself together, I tried to enter her room and I realized that she already had company. I waited in the lobby of the unit for awhile and you guessed it, cried so more. Then I heard her husband walking down the hall. He walked this gentleman to the elevator. Here's the interesting part! I could hardly believe my ears when I heard it. My friend said " Thanks for coming Jeremy!" I couldn't believe it! I immediately began to think Okay, God cut me a little slack here. You knew how hard it would be for me to come here today. Why couldn't that man be named anything else? Why did his name have to be Jeremy???? I did finally get to see my friend and her baby. I am glad that I went. I felt happiness watching this family embrace the newness of that little miracle and to welcome her into their family. I felt good being able to support my friend during a momentous time in her life, just like she has done for me many times over.

I also visited with another friend and her family. This time the circumstances were not joyous, in fact they were tragic. My friend and her family were involved in a car accident over the weekend and their little precious 14 month old baby was killed. I couldn't believe it. I grew up with this person and I never in my wildest dreams thought we would one day share this grief, this pain. I knew I had to go and at least see her. I KNEW how she was feeling. So I once again prayed for the strength to enter the funeral home to see her and her family. It has only been a few weeks since Jeremy has passed and so the funeral home was a difficult place to go. Thank goodness my mother went with me. While we were walking there, I saw a flag that had a large sun and lots of sunflowers on it. I instantly thought of Jeremy, and what he would say to me if he could. I felt that same unexplained strength come over me again, knowing that by gaining the strength to enter the funeral home, that I would be helping someone else that was feeling the very same grief that I am. I know that in time, we will help each other through this, with the help and grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. Please keep this friend in your prayers too, Jesus knows her name and her needs.

But wait there's more. . . Scott and I visited Johns Hopkins Hospital twice this week. We met with a bereavement coordinator earlier in the week to help us with the vast amount of resources available to us and how best to utilize them for our specific needs. Then on Friday, we took our youngest to see the cardiologists to determine the condition of his heart after a heart murmur had been detected. Thankfully, He is fine. PRAISE THE LORD!! However, the journey through the hallways of that hospital was extremely difficult. Again, the prayers, the hopes, the dreams we had, have all been shattered. We have been left here to pick up the pieces and to make something with our lives without Jeremy. We had the opportunity to see some of the people that took such loving care of our son and to hug them. It felt good to see them as that too has been difficult. We had formed relationships with these doctors, nurses, and respiratory therapists. Those relationships have come to a screeching halt since Jeremy passed away. It feels strange not talking to them, not calling the hospital every day, not going there every day. It feels even worse entering that hospital, not going to the PICU to see Jeremy, and then leaving AGAIN without our son. To end a long story, we spent six very long hours that day at Hopkins. We ended the day in the ER because our son had a problem waking up from the sedation medication that he was given for the test. He was throwing up and we just couldn't get him to wake up. The doctors wanted to do the safe thing and to monitor him closely. Well, what was safe for him, was torture for Scott and I. We both cried and then the panic attacks started. This was the very place where Jeremy had gone itno cardiac arrest to begin with. The nurse was trying to get a blood pressure and this caused the pulse ox machine to read an inaccurately. The red flashing number and the sound of the machine did us in for the night. We knew we had to get out of there and fast. Thankfully a doctor came in the room that remembered us and assured us that our son was fine and that we could go home. It was an exhausting day. We put the kids to bed and we went to bed too. That night as we prayed, we gave thanks that our son was healthy and without any heart problems.

We had a family dinner this weekend. I experienced some of those "emotional pauses" throughout the night. In fact I feel those a lot lately. The worst part was when we left and we were driving home. It felt like we had left our son behind. He wasn't in his carseat and I couldn't find him. The tears started to flow, the sick in the stomach feeling was back, I couldn't make heads or tails with the situation, and then it started again. . . the guilt. If only I had known just how sick he was. If I had only made someone listen to me and do some tests. If only I had taken him to the doctor sooner. What if I had gotten him to the hospital sooner, maybe they could have helped him and this wouldn't have happened. Maybe I would still be able to have my son in my arms right now.

I hope and pray that every week will not be a tough as this one. I pray that there are more peaceful moments and healing times that don't hurt so much.

As sick as I feel in my stomach, even as I write this, I am also comforted that Jeremy is in heaven and that he will not suffer any longer. I know that I will see him again. I just feel so far away from him and that feels so unnatural for a mother. The bedtime routine between a parent and their child is so endearing. I miss that quiet, tender time holding him as he fell asleep in my arms. I miss that peaceful slumber face and the feeling that comes over a parent, when all the children are finally asleep and all is right with the world. My three children on earth are asleep and I still feel lost. The world is not right. We feel hollow inside and there is an emptiness within our home. This is the worst time of the day for us. . . I pray every night that I can fall asleep quickly and not "stew" on things that I cannot control or change.

Tomorrow is a new day. I will get up, put on my make-up, and make myself do something fun with my children. They need and deserve a happy childhood. I will fake it until I feel it!

Bring the Rain

If you are reading this blog then you should be able to hear the music playing in the background. Music has always been an important part of our lives. It was easy to choose the music for Jeremy's funeral service. The songs we chose were so symbolic to us. This is another song that has such meaning to us and we wanted to share the lyrics with all of you.


Bring the Rain - Mercy Me

I can count a million times
People asking me how I
Can praise You with all that I've gone through
The question just amazes me
Can circumstances possibly
Change who I forever am in You
Maybe since my life was changed
Long before these rainy days
It's never really ever crossed my mind
To turn my back on you, oh Lord
My only shelter from the storm
But instead I draw closer through these times

So I pray
Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain

I am yours regardless of the clouds that may
loom above because you are much greater than
my pain you who made a way for me suffering
your destiny so tell me whats a little rain

Losing Jeremy feels like we are trapped in the worst storm of our lives. Yet, in the darkest hours, we KNOW this is the journey that God has chosen for us and we trust him. Don't get me wrong we cry, we scream, and we feel empty inside too. We are also faithful servants and we feel comforted by the fact that Jeremy was chosen to do so many miracles here on earth and we couldn't be more honored and proud to be his parents. So in a sense. . . we will walk in the rain if it brings HIM glory.

We will faithfully walk in the rain. God never promised it would be easy, he did promise to walk with me every step of the way. This week surely hasn't been easy. We have tried our best to just make sense of the things that we have been unable to do for the last few months. Needless to say we have had a lot of catching up to do. We have struggled with the "everyday" tasks without our precious son, Jeremy. There were times that I often thought, Oh Jeremy is still sleeping in the crib. There was panic as I thought that I had forgotten him in the car or just plain and simple couldn't find him. Each and every time that happens, it is like reliving the pain of him dying all over again. I guess someday my heart and my head will synchronize. Lots of people say that time heals the pain in your heart. A friend gave me a book at the Funeral Home called Comfort by Ann Hood. She describes this phenonmenon much better I think. She writes " Our loss still filled our home, every corner of it. It still filled us. Time doesn't heal, I had learned, it just keeps moving. And it takes us with it." I just can't imagine myself ever not feeling this emptiness in my soul. Tme is taking us with it. We have three other beautiful children. They deserve a happy childhood so we CHOOSE to get up out of bed, we CHOOSE to find happiness each day, we CHOOSE to live on knowing we will see our son again, and we CHOOSE to honor his memory.

I signed a Graduation card this weekend. It was the first time since Jeremy has died that I signed our family's names at the bottom. It pained me to write all of names, Scott, Amy, Trevor, Meredith, and Nolan. What about Jeremy??? I feel like I was leaving him out. I feel an emptiness within my soul that no words can describe. I sat in church and wished that I could just see a glimmer of Jeremy resting in the arms of Jesus in heaven. I just wanted to "see" that he was okay, just like any other mom. Then I realized, I NEED to have faith in what I cannot see.

Thanks for reading and thanks for your continued prayers.

Amy

Remembering

Scott and I decided to start this new journey. We are not experienced Bloggers so please be patient with us as we familiarize ourselves with this new site. Many of you have been following our precious son, Jeremy's story on the Caring Bridge website. We have gained so much strength from all of you, our Prayer Warriors, during this difficult time in our lives. Aside from the extreme sadness we feel mourning the loss of our baby, we also mourn the loss of the relationships that were strengthened and/or formed within our families, at the hospital, in our church, and our community. It was like everything came to a screeching halt all at the same time. We received a few e-mails with links to other blogs of families who share our pain of losing a child. Circumstances may have been different, but the pain is the same. We felt that perhaps if we created a blog, maybe we too could find some healing.


Many of you have requested that we share the words that we wrote for Jeremy's funeral service. Here they are:

We are here today to celebrate the life of a small little baby, our son, Jeremy Emmett Morse. Even in his short life he impacted the lives of his family, his fiends, his neighbors, his community, and his prayer warriors. He even changed the lives of others that he has never even met. His has done this in many small and big ways. There are far too many to mention, but we’re sure each of you sitting here today could tell of how he has changed your life, in even a small way. For that we are thankful. It brings us much comfort to know that such beautiful things have risen out of the tragedy of losing our child. We must remember that our lives are not about serving ourselves, they are about glorifying God. Jeremy did more work for God in his short life than we have done in 34 years.

Jeremy loved his family. He loved his brothers Trevor and Nolan, and his sister Meredith. He was always a content baby. He was happiest when he was part of whatever was happening with our family. If we were eating dinner, he wanted to be held and to see the table and family sitting around it, and not sit in the swing or bouncy seat. He always wanted to be held facing outward so he could see everything going on around him. Jeremy loved taking a bath. He loved to kick his feet and by his facial expressions, we could tell how proud he was of himself to make a big splash. One of the only times he routinely cried was when we took him out of the tub. We thank God for the privilege and honor of being his parents for the period of time that God loaned him to us. He was never really ours to begin with, for God has always loved him even more than we do. We will ask God for his grace and mercy, to be cast upon us as we grieve and as we approach new experiences in life without our precious baby Jeremy. We will grieve the loss of the milestones and memories that were yet to be made.

As we sat and prayed on one of those days when they said Jeremy might not make it, we thought "God, why?" People will lose faith in you if you let something so horrible happen. And then we thought it would be easy for Jeremy to live and everyone to say "God does answer prayers." But we all know there are a lot of prayers he does not answer, and that does not mean that he is not real or that he has forsaken us. Then we thought, if Jeremy does not make it, what a greater test of faith and testimony to God that the world look at our family after such a loss and say "Wow, God must exist. Look at those people, they still love God." Sometimes, God’s will is not the same as ours. We prayed for a miracle for Jeremy and it still happened, it just wasn’t the same miracle we were hoping for. It has brought us much comfort these last few days as many of you have shared ways that Jeremy has left his mark on your hearts and forever changed your lives for the better. These are the miracles that God created using our son, Jeremy. We are proud of our son. God is and always will be among us. We are living through it, and we know this to be true. It will not be without sadness, without grief, without unimaginable pain. Yet all who look upon our family will know that, despite the trials and tribulations of this world, God is real and he will give us what we need from this day forward - strength, hope, faith, and love.

The doctors, nurses, respiratory therapists, and staff chose their mission of God’s work - how brave and noble to willingly live through such trials and tribulations, and face miracles and tragedies every day. Our family’s mission has been thrust upon us by God, just like the apostle Paul, and we will not turn away. Jeremy’s earthly work is done, but our mission, through Jeremy, has just begun, and it is our privilege to do God’s work.

Our time here, whether 6 months or 100 years, is just a speck of time. Let us not waste it being frustrated by earthly things. Live well, laugh often, love much, and give thanks to God - life goes by too fast. Jeremy would want us to celebrate life, even the little moments that happen every day. He would want us to see all of God’s blessings that he has made for us and to be thankful for them. Jeremy would want us to see God’s glory in the rays of sunshine in our lives. He would want us to give back and to help others in big and small ways. For Jeremy will live on in our hearts and in the way that we choose to live our lives from this day forth.

Jeremy, it has been our honor and privilege to be your parents and we will be forever grateful for your presence in our lives and in our hearts. We will never forget you and will love you forever, and ever, and always.

Until we meet again, sweet baby boy, rest in God’s peace.

Amen


I found this poem while searching the many blogs out there that belong to other families that have lost a child.

Remembering
Go ahead and mention my child,The one that died, you know.Don't worry about hurting me further.The depth of my pain doesn't show.Don't worry about making me cry.I'm already crying inside.Help me to heal by releasing the tears that I try to hide.I'm hurt when you just keep silent,Pretending he didn't exist.I'd rather you mention my child,Knowing that he has been missed.You asked me how I was doing.I say "pretty good" or "fine".But healing is something ongoing I feel it will take a lifetime. ~ Elizabeth Dent ~

I thought it was beautiful. Scott and I desperately want Jeremy's memory to stay alive! Please know that we are aware that many of you out there want so badly to "fix" this madness in our lives, but you can't. We know that it puts you in an uncomfortable place, what to say, what to do. We want you to do and say whatever your heart leads you to do or to say . We have felt so incredibly blessed along this journey to have the support and most importantly your prayers. Please keep it coming, our journey is not over, we still have many difficult times ahead of us .