Blue Bows and Prayer Bracelets

There are so many topics on which I could write about on a daily basis. Stay awhile, visit often, there's a lot more to come!



Today I feel led to write about the issue that many have courageously brought to our attention face to face or indirectly through others that are close to us. The tears are flowing folks and my heart yearns to empty a little of my soul.



What should we do with the blue bows? Should we take them down? Should we leave them up? What should we do with the bracelets? Should we wear them? Should we take them off? I'll admit, there is no easy answer. It's personal.

The blue bracelets remind me of the power of prayer. Draw close to God, listen to him whisper to your soul. When I listen closely he tells me "Amy, I know you hurt. I collect and count each and every tear you shed. I am here and I will not forsake you. Jeremy is safe in my arms. You will see your son again in eternal life. You were chosen to be the mother of this special child for the period of time that I loaned him to you. I called him home and "received him", I did not take him from you. Jeremy had a purpose, he fulfilled it. In him was life, real life! You prayed for a miracle, many miracles happened. Maybe they weren't the ones that you had hoped and dreamed of, but my will was done. Amy, you gave me your trust, now see it through. Trust in my will and my ways. "

Now also know that while I know these things to be true in the core of my soul, as a human and as a mother, I also struggle to cope with the death of my son. So I continue to pray. I ask God to give me his peace and strength every day. He tells me to bring him my heart. He asks me to give him my anger, my doubts, my fears, my hurts, my WHATEVER. For in him and only in him, will I find the peace I need to live on without Jeremy. My life and what it holds in my lifetime is the destiny that God has chosen for me. Bring the rain. . . whatever it is to bring him glory. I am his vessel and he is my captain. If I follow his course, I will reach the destination that he has chosen for me. I too will soar the heavens someday with Jeremy and this life will all make sense.

I'll never look at a blue bow the same again! Scott and wish many times that we had thought to ask permission to walk in the Fourth of July parade with our children behind a banner covered in blue bows that read "Thank you!" As I am driving or walking within our community, I often have the desire to stop and knock on doors or enter the places of business to personally meet the Prayer Warriors who have fervently prayed for my son and for our family. The strength to follow through on that thought has not come yet. Please know my heart feels that desire but many of these times I am barely holding it together and cannot muster the strength to stop. Be forwarned, at any time, a strange lady with her children, may be at your door ready for a big hug and to say "Thanks". There has been a bag of blue bows that I think has traveled to many of the events held to support our family and to honor Jeremy. They have become tattered and torn and some don't hold their bow shape too well anymore. I still have these bows in my garage in a bag. What they represent is far more important that the actual bows themselves. They represent a community of Christians that have reached out to a fellow neighbor to say " We're praying, we're here, we've got your back, WHATEVER you need." These bows represent the magnitude of compassion and the true meaning of giving back. We have all learned, without Oprah, that we can all do something to help someone else in need, in very big and small ways. It shows what can and could be done when a community of people are bound together for a higher cause. The blue bows represent a visual reminder that life can change in a blink of an eye. It can happen to anyone at any time. Every part of your being can be erased in a second, without warning, and cannot be changed or reversed. This realization, caused people to evaluate their lives and gave them the push to make changes where needed or desired. These bows represent people who have drawn close to the Lord or have made a decision to get to know him and desire to have a relationship with him. These bows represent a baby, my son, who changed the world. We may never even fully know the ways in which his life has impacted the world and the ways in which others will their lives differently because of Jeremy's influence on them. One thing is for sure, Jeremy's influence, his "Rays of Sunshine" to us, will somehow help us all in some way, big or small, bring glory to our God. Jeremy's gift to us will live on forever and regenerate as each of us use what we have learned from him to live a richer and fuller life here on earth.

So to get back and answer the questions that I shared earlier, please do whatever you feel led to do in your heart. When the time comes, it will hurt to begin a new chapter. I know in my heart, that even after the bows have been taken down, after the bracelets have been taken off, after this intial time has passed and people have "moved" on with their lives, Jeremy will live on. His legacy will be here for you and I to remember always, for it has been permanently etched in our hearts.

Busy Week

It has been a busy week, which has been both good and bad. Good because it can sometimes provide temporary anesthesia from hurting so badly. I can get lost in the moment with the other kids and get so busy taking care of their every day needs that it feels good not to be consumed every waking second with thoughts of Jeremy. Unfortunately those thoughts get stored up somehow, even without trying to save them for later. The physical and emotional exhaustion that are present at the same time can be very bad!


The worst time for us still seems to be at night when the children are asleep in their beds, all is quiet in our house and everything "should" be right in the world. I hurt the most when I hold my youngest son as he drifts off into the Land of Nod. He looks so much like Jeremy. The feelings and memories of Jeremy's last few moments with us are forever etched in my heart. When I look down at my youngest son, his eyes flicker open a few times to make sure he isn't missing a thing more fun then giving in to his exhaustive state. It is then that I find myself wishing Jeremy had opened his eyes and proved us all wrong just one more time. I am grateful for the many miracles that I have come to know that happened through Jeremy, but I still long for the one that I wanted and prayed to happen, for him to be healed. I guess in some senses that miracle did happen. Jeremy has eternal life now. He is no longer suffering and is now perfect in every way. I still wish I could just see for myself that he is okay. My faith tells me to believe in what I cannot see and know that I will see him again.


On Saturday I had the great priviledge and honor of taking part in a Crop for a Cause and Silent Auction event that some of my CM family and friends sponsored. All proceeds from the day were given to our family in honor of Jeremy, to help with medical bills and other costs that have encrued due to Scott missing so much time at work. It was wonderful in so many ways! Thank you Kati, Veronica, Robin, Suzy, Julie, Kim, and Sharleen. Thank you for everything! In addition I thank those of you who sponsored or donated an item for the auction, gave generously to the Memorial Fund, or helped in other ways to make this event possible and rewarding for all who attended, especially me. My thankful and grateful heart also appreciates the generosity of my church for allowing us to use the facility free of charge. I also thank each and every person who came to the event! Thank you!!! As I said that day, I'm glad that each and every one of you are there on this journey with me to hold the umbrella for us in this devasting storm of life and to help us see the sun shining every day.


I was amazed at the turnout of family, friends, and new friends that came out to support us. We were unable to experience for ourselves the other events that were held in Jeremy's honor. We had always heard quite moving descriptions of what the events were like but could never "feel" it for ourselves completely. Amazing is the only word that comes to mind. It was so nice to see my friends again and to meet some of the "Prayer Warriors" in person. I can't describe the feeling that comes over me as people share a little bit of how their lives have changed because of Jeremy. I was humbled to meet other mothers who have also lost a child and came forward to share their stories with me. I appreciated their compassion and courage to come face to face with their pain, in hopes of helping me. In addition, I also had the courage to begin Jeremy's album. It is bittersweet working on this album project. It will certainly be unlike anything that I have ever done before. I ask for your prayers to give me the strength and courage I need to complete this task. I appreciate the help of so many fellow scrappers to get it done so that we as a family can cherish our memories of Jeremy forever.


We continue to be amazed everyday at the outpouring of support that comes to our family. We appreciate the cards, phone calls, meals, baked treats, fruit, offers of lending helping hands, visits, and many other creative ways that members of our community have embraced us during this difficult time. We have no way of expressing to you how appreciative we truly are. Although it isn't easy, we also love when people talk with us in public places and share how Jeremy has changed their lives. It feels me with such pride to know the good that has come from such a tragedy. Don't ever wonder whether your deeds are helping us in some way, just know that we are forever grateful and could not survive this storm without your help.

There is so much more that I want to write about. . . stories for another day. I'll try to post again soon.

Amy

One Month Reflection

Nolan in a tub full of sunshine bubbles.

Nolan riding his new bike! No worries, he DOES have and WILL wear his helmet!
The sunshine birthday cake for Nolan.

Yesterday was just a million times harder than I thought it would be. I have been an emotional wreck all week just anticipating what it would be like and what it would feel like one month to the day since Jeremy has passed. It was a mixed bag of emotions all day. To further complicate the emotions of the day, we also celebrated Nolan's second birthday. How does one do that? How do you put one foot in a celebatory mode to be happy as you watch your child enter a new phase in his life, turning two, while at the very same time, remember your other child that died one month ago. AHH my life is full of near impossible times lately! I can't win. Well all things are possible with God right? So we did our best.

I was grumpy ALL DAY and ALL NIGHT. I just don't seem to know what to do with the anger that rages in the core of my soul. Trevor even woke up and was crying as he was coming down the stairs carrying a large photo of Jeremy. I though this was ironic but doubted that he knew the date. I took him in my arms and we cried together for awhile in the stillness of the morning. We are all about family in this house and it tears me up inside that my children have this pain to learn about at such an early age. I went throught the motions for the rest of the day hoping it wouldn't feel like one of those dreadfully long days. I CHOSE to make the best of the day, but on the inside, for the first time, what I really wanted to do was to stay in bed and pull the covers over my head. I wore my sunshine earrings that my parents brought me from their trip to the beach. I indulged in a pedicure and had sunshines painted on my big toenails. I took the children to their swim lesson and then we stayed at the pool for some summer fun since it was such a beautiful day. I couldn't help but to notice all of the babies that were about the same age as Jeremy. I wondered what he would look like and imagined all of the fun we would be having today. I was glad to leave the pool and to come home because as the day went on it just kept getting harder and harder.

It has always been a special treat to take a bath in our big spa tub. Yesterday felt like a good day for such a treat. I filled the tub and added a yellow color tablet in honor of Jeremy. I have some bath bubbles from Philosophy called "You Are My Sunshine" so it was only fitting that I added those too! The kids even turned on the "bubbler" and much to our surprise, the bubbles were overflowing! I guess I added too much bubble solution and perhaps Jeremy really wanted us to smile and laugh a little.

A good friend who knows me and what I need even better than I do sometimes, brought us a delicious dinner. I was certainly glad she did , because by that time in the afteroon, I was in no shape to cook dinner. Another family had sent us a beautiful arrangement of sunflowers to remind us that Jeremy was still in their hearts and minds and that he would never be forgotten. My parents did the same. I am enjoying the sunshine in my home a little more today. Another friend and her girls came by to bring us a flower and a card with the same loving sentiments. Many people called, some visited the cemetary, and others sent cards. We even received a very touching card from the Cardiology Dept. at the hospital. We were humbled by the outpouring of love, support, and prayers that continues to surround us. We still need every bit of this support from all of you, thanks!

Scott came home carrying a cake and a proud smile. I could hardly believe what I saw, a sunshine cake. It was PERFECT. We had both faced a tough day and now we would begin a family celebration, a family tradition, without Jeremy. Hold on. . . keep breathing. . . Yes, Angie M. , In. . . Out. . . In. . . I felt so guilty because Nolan deserved so much more on his second birthday. He deserved a happy day and he got whatever we could muster out of our emotional vacuum. My thoughts for most of the day were consumed by Jeremy's death. I kept thinking all day, How does this happen? Babies just aren't supposed to die. We were supposed to have four beautiful children to grow up in this house. Jeremy was needed here to be a part of this birthday celebration. The table just wasn't the same as we gathered around to sing "Happy Birthday" and to blow out the candles. For starters, we wanted a quiet celebration for Nolan knowing that it would be a particularly difficult day. It was so strange to not be surrounded by our extended. While we were singing Scott and I both cried tears of sadness knowing that Jeremy wasn't in his usual place at the table and wondering what he would be doing if he were. I imagined he would have been so excited and he probably would have been reaching for the cake and a tiny taste of the icing. We opend gifts and took a short walk but the whole time everyone was out of sorts. Nothing we did yesterday seemed "right". I'm wondering when home will feel like home and when our life will ever feel "right" again. We put the kids to bed early and fell into each other's arms crying ourselves to sleep.

Gosh, we have had so many of the "firsts" already in these last few weeks. These are the experiences that people have warned us about that happen during the grieving process. We're stuck on this ride forever. I just wish that it wouldn't hurt so bad all of the time. Okay Jesus, we're holding on tighter than ever, trusting that you will see us through this too and that you do know what you are doing. I do not know what I am doing and I am unsure of the way to go from here. I do know you will show me. I know that you will reveal to me a new "me" and a new assignment that will give you glory.

one month

It's been a month without our precious Jeremy. I wake up every day and I still need convincing that he really isn't here anymore. I go to bed each night fighting the horrible images in my mind, thinking of the "What If's", thinking about how to face the next day without my precious baby, and then finally crying myself to sleep. Then I wake up and do it again. I walk around most days feeling like I have been kicked in the stomach really hard and I can't breathe. To be honest, the last two weeks have been the most difficult. Reality is setting in hard!

I see him, I hear him, and I feel him everywhere I go and with everything that I do. I feel lost and I scurry around all day trying to stay busy and to keep the children happy and content. The only problem is that when it comes down to it, Jeremy isn't here nor will he ever be and that's why I can't feel content. There is a gaping whole in my heart and soul and there's nothing that will ever fill that void ever again. Scott and I try to put ourselves out there for the sake of the other children. We force ourselves to go to the pool, to celebrate the Fourth of July holiday by going to the parade, or to take part in family celebrations etc. However, living on without our Jeremy, hurts. Those emotional pauses happen all the time. The triggers seem to come when we least expect them or when we are already having a hard day. There are Real Estate signs posted all around the community with someone named Jeremy on them. There are also babies everywhere I turn. Especially painful is the sight of a baby the same age as Jeremy. I see them and it's like I just can't breathe.

We all visited the cemetary for the first time this week. My Aunt Diane was kind enought to go before us and place sunflowers and a sun balloon there. The children each placed a flag in the vase in honor of the holiday. The new grass was just beginning to grow and the temporary marker was placed at the top of the site. I've had to do a lot of really hard things these last few months and for some strange reason, I keep thinking it's going to get easier one of these days, but that hasn't happened yet. I sat there on the grass and I didn't want to leave. If I just sat there a little longer, if I was patient, he would still be here. I would find him again. But instead, I eventually did get up and walk away, without my baby.

This is raw pain folks!! I am not sugar coating this at all. I am ANGRY!!! I worked so hard from the very beginning to have this precious baby. I had to take medicine to stay pregnant, I threw up many times every single solitary day until about 23 weeks gestation, I went into pre-term labor around 31 weeks and was on bed rest. We had to have so much help and I sacrificed so much with Scott and the other children to keep Jeremy safe from an early delivery and the complications that could've happened. I did deliver at 36 weeks and from all we could see, we had a healthy baby boy! I experienced some complications from childbirth and had some minor surgery one week later. Then at just ten days old, we were rushed to Hopkins because we discovered that Jeremy had a duadenal web. He had emergency surgery and spent roughly two weeks in the hospital recovering. At the time, I thought this was the worst experience of my life. I was so thankful that Jeremy was born in this century. Babies born even fifty years ago died from this birth defect because they did not have the technology to find or treat the problem. You see EVERYTHING at Hopkins. Looking around, I was so thankful that my baby would get to go home and lead a happy and healthy life. Jeremy would be able to eat normal foods and live a normal life. Little did I know that we would be here, in a place that no parent wants to be in, just six short months later. Oh how I wish I could turn back the clocks and do so many things differently. So yes, I am angry that after all that hard work, I still do not have my baby to hold, to nurse, to rock to sleep. You see. . . some people search their whole lives to find true happiness. Some people have it and don't realize it or don't appreciate it. Well, we had it when our fourth and precious child was born. There was a contentment in my soul that I had never felt. Our family was complete! Jeremy was the cherry on the top of our delicious life! Our dreams have been shattered. Nothing will ever be the same again. I am left with the famous thought that it was far better to have had that happiness and contentment, than to have never had it at all.

I pray. . . and I pray. . . and I pray. . . . sometimes I do not know what to pray for. I pray for God's will for my life. I pray that he will make it visable to me what his journey is for me now. I pray that he will give me more strength daily to endure this earlthy life without my child.

I pray for my marriage. Losing a child is such a strain on a marriage. We grieve differently because we are different people. We hurt so badly that we don't have much left to offer each other or the ability to hold one another up. Lord, help us to hold on tighter than ever. Lord help us to keep the door sealed and closed to Satan and his ways.

I pray for my children. I pray that they have happy memories of Jeremy. I pray that they do not remember the ugliness that surrounds this experience. I pray that they do not end up in therapy as adults because of the damage that we do to them trying to cope with this tragedy. We know all to well that who they become in life is directly related to how we conduct ourselves and a result of the experiences that we offer them in this life.

I pray for our extended family. They are hurting too! They have lost a loved one. A grandchild, a nephew, a cousin. . . They hurt in another way as well. As hard as they try, they cannot take this pain from us. They cannot carry this load for us. They CAN walk beside us. They CAN and DO walk in the Rain with us. I pray for their hearts to be comforted by our Lord.

I walk in our neighborhood and I drive throughout my community and I STILL see the blue ribbons. I am STILL amazed by the mail that we receive on a daily basis. I am reminded that there are Prayer Warriors that have continued to lift us up in prayer. I pray that each and every one of you out there knows just how very much we appreciate your ongoing love, support, and prayers. Especially when we cannot ask for it or thank you with words. I pray that you feel our appreciation in your heart tonight.

I pray for the doctors, nurses, respiratory therapists, and other medical staff out there who treat sick and critically injured and/or sick children and their families. I especially pray for the PICU staff at Hopkins. They face the impossible and the most difficult cases every day. I pray that they are stengthened by the miracles and that they can release their sadness from the tragedies. They are an amazing team. I will be forever grateful and proud to have known them and to have seen them work miracles in the lives of sick children. I miss them. . . I also pray for their families. May they know others appreciate the work of their loved one and that their sacrifices of family time do not go unnoticed.

I pray for the millions of parents out there. I pray that they know the true gift and miracle of being a parent and that they use that gift wisely. May they see the magic in their child's eyes and NEVER take a single moment for granted.

Last but not least. . .

A fellow blogger writes this next prayer so beautifully and ever since I read it, I have prayed it for myself daily. "May the image of Heaven be so overhwhelmingly joyful that we can fully resign our hearts to the image of Jeremy being there." Lord, show us the glory of your dwelling place. Comfort us tonight knowing that we will see our Jeremy again.

Thanks for reading. Thanks for praying.

Amy

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 .