A first bite... and the tears that follow

Everett’s 6 month post will be up soon (I hope), but today I’m having a hard time moving past one of our recent milestones.

This weekend Everett was the happy recipient of … food.  Even though he loved it, even though he clamored to hold the spoon and guide the cereal into his own mouth from the very first bite¸ even though he had disappointment written all over his little round face when the bowl was empty… I was crushed.

I have been completely and wholly delighted to be the source of his nutrition.  I have been delighted to meet his needs when he was thirsty and hungry.  I have been delighted to eat well and stay hydrated such that my body can make exactly what he needs.  I have been delighted to pump at work, meaning that I rearrange all of my meetings and tasks each morning, walk to the mother’s room, assemble and connect all of the equipment, disrobe, pump, re-dress, disassemble and sanitize all of the equipment, arrange his bottles in the freezer pack, and walk back to my desk… only to do it all again 3 hours later.  I have been delighted to stare into his big brown doe eyes each night when we cuddle and whisper together while everyone else is deep in sleep.

I know these sources of delight didn’t all disappear with that first two tablespoons of cereal, but I’ve been through this before.  I know how fast time starts to accelerate.  I know how quickly our sweet babes gain/earn their independence and begin their life’s walk toward personhood… a personhood filled with opportunities to exert freewill… freewill that sometimes takes us off God’s path and onto a path of hurt and difficulty and sorrow.  

That little spoon full of cereal broke my heart.  Everett gaining nutritional and physical independence from me is only the first step, but it’s the hardest. 

The sorrow I’m feeling this week over this milestone is most-definitely compounded by grief.

I know who shares my feelings on this.  I know who also took great delight in sustaining her children both in the womb, and also in their young months.   I know who also relished the science as well as the art of sustaining a young life with your own body.  I know who also stayed up extra late sometimes because the anticipation of those precious nighttime cuddles was so great that she couldn’t fall asleep and would rather wait, awake, to hear the first stirrings of a warm baby in need of nourishment.  I know who also felt these pangs of sadness when the sweet babes were ready to move forward faster than we’d anticipated. 

I know whose heart shares the mirror image of my own today.

Oh, the sadness is overwhelming.  It’s pressing in so deep that I can’t breathe. 

Lord, 

Please lessen the burden.  This is only one small milestone that I can’t share with her.  This is only the first of many, many important life moments that we won’t be able to talk about, cry about, and later smile about.  I need YOU.  Only YOU can fill vast empty space.  Only YOU can bring light into this dark place.  Only YOU can lessen the burden and lift the sadness.  Only YOU can restore my soul.  Please Lord, walk with me in these days.  Please show me the way… so that I might have the focus, energy, and enthusiasm needed to parent my precious children in the way you desire.  

        In your precious Son's name, Amen.

The call I never received

I listened for my phone's ring all morning.  Looked for tasks and things to do that might help each moment pass a little easier until I heard from Stanton.  I was hoping for a call that morning to let me know that B had maintained her stability long enough to be moved back to the comforts of her own home.

The call never came.

Instead, Chris sat next me on the bed while I was repacking one of the suitcases for the third time. He took my hand, looked into my eyes, and my world changed.  The silence was deafening.  His lips were moving, but I couldn't hear anything.  I could only see the sun streaming in through the window, illuminating the West Texas dust that perpetually fills the air, and the two spots on the opposite wall that were accidentally painted a slightly different color blue. 

Stanton hadn't called me.  He had called Christopher.  

Even in this life altering moment, Stanton was loving and supporting Brandi as a Godly man and head of his household.  And, naturally, he called and asked Christopher to do the same for me.

What started as a friendship between two young women in 2006 quickly grew into a friendship between two couples, and then two families, over the years.  As we poured our hearts out to each other each morning in her office, we grew to love each others' families more and more.  We were delighted to see Stanton and Christopher begin to forge a friendship all their own.

Now, I'm even more grateful for the friendship and love that Stanton and Christopher share for their wives, their children, and each other.  As much as I love and adore Stanton, and as much as want to help him walk through this trial, there will be places that my condolences fall short. I pray that the men in Stanton's life will be attuned to his needs, and will provide him with the counsel and support that only another husband could provide.

Christopher and Stanton, golfing in Denver  (August 2008)

If you can't stand the heat...

I'm standing here, staring at a huge bonfire of consequence and emotion.  One day, I might be ready to march right into it and feel the scorching flames all around me, but for tonight, I'm only willing to tiptoe around it.  I need a few days or weeks (or maybe even months) to explore the periphery of B's death before I can even think about letting myself sink into the grief that's roaring right in front of me.

B and JoAnna at Baylor Homecoming 2007