Yesterday after seeing the rainbow, I went on about our day. Jarrett went to work for the whole day and the kids and I stayed busy at home. Lately I've been so selfishly drowning in my own grief that I find it hard to inquire and see how the kids are. Generally speaking, I think they are doing pretty good. They seem like life is the same as it was prior to Noah coming into our lives, they are busy playing, fighting with each other as they so regularly do and carrying as if their lives aren't too different. And yet I read about how kids deal with grief and thought it best to ask.
Of the three kids, Michael and Gabriel seem to be the most affected. I suppose it is their age compared to Isabelle's. They understand death to be a permanent thing. At the hospital when we were saying goodbye to Noah, they both weaped as tears flowed down their face. Jarrett and I, our parents and extended family members tried to comfort them. On that sorrow filled day, 12 days ago today, Jarrett and I wanted to be the ones to tell them their baby brother had left this Earth, so after we had our time at the hospital saying goodbye to our baby, we came home and gathered the kids in the living room. As soon as we walked through the door though, Michael was there greeting us and asking us how Noah was. We told him to go to the living room and called for Isabelle and Gabriel to join us. Michael immediately sensed something was wrong and said, "What happened? Is Noah okay?"
Telling the kids was probably one of the worst things next to having to let Noah go. Immediately the kids broke down in tears, even Isabelle, while we know she didn't fully comprehend the reality of the words we had shared. The boys cried uncontrollably and fell into our arms. We hugged them and told them we would all be okay and that we were still a family, it was just that Noah was in Heaven now. As broken as my heart was from losing our baby, seeing their hearts break hurt mine even more.
We told the kids that we will still talk about Noah, have his pictures around, celebrate his birthday and that he will always be a part of our family. We also told them they can talk about him, his passing or ask us any questions they have at any time.
In the days since Noah's passing there have been questions. "Mom, what color skin did Noah have?" Michael asked, "Did he have your color skin or dad's?" I answered, "Actually Michael, that is a great question... I never thought about it, but I would say his skin color was kind of like Dad's"
Isabelle asks many questions, in fact I sometimes wonder if she can sense him or if she dreams about him. This morning her first words out of her mouth were, "Mommy, where's Noah?" When I answered he's in Heaven honey she said, I want to go get him. I miss him" And there have been other things she's said that makes me wonder what going through her mind. On the day of Noah's wake, we all loaded up in the car and as we left our house, Isabelle started talking, to herself we thought. She said, "Noah, you can't sit on the floor. Mommy don't like you to sit on the floor." I'm not sure what to make of it, but to hear her talk about her brother makes me happy. On Sunday after church we stopped at the grocery store and Jarrett and Michael ran in to pick up a few things, as I still cant' bring myself to walk through that store door. As we sat in the car, I in the front seat, sat straight ahead staring out the window feeling empty and complete sadness. Isabelle started talking and I turned around to listen to her. She had her hand up and was counting on each finger. She said, "I love my whole family... mommy, daddy, Gabriel, Michael and my baby brother" as she pointed to each finger. While Noah was only here a short time he left an impression on all of us.
Yesterday I wanted to get a better sense for how the kids, especially the boys were doing. After lunch while Isabelle was napping I asked the boys to write a letter to their brother. I told them they could write about anything they wanted but gave them some ideas... tell Noah all the things you wanted to do with him, write about how you feel, what will you miss, what did you want him to know that you never got to tell him? The boys got their pencils and colors out from the closet and went straight to work, each of them in separate rooms. Soon they emerged and showed me what they had written and drawn...
I really wanted to teach you sports. I miss you a lot. I love love love you. I would of taught you how to do math, reading, history, science, social studies and most all, legos. Love Michael.
And below a picture of what he would have taught Noah at each age...
At three years old he was learning social studies and got an A+ on his work.
At four years old, he was teaching him football.
And at age five, he was teaching him baseball... "Home Run by Noah!"
Gabriel's letter to his brother...
He said from his pictures he would have played baseball, taught him to read, play basketball and how to do multiplication.
As I read the boy's notes to their brother, I couldn't help but feel sad for all the things they were sad about not getting to do also. The loss of Noah affects all of us... we all mourn, We are all devastated, it is just that the kids are kids, and with morning must also come play. So I need to remember to ask them how they feel, we all have to go through these uncharted waters together.
Jarrett's grieving process has been different than mine. While I pour my emotions out like a faucet that wont' turn off, he's the opposite. He's strong. He continues to be a rock for me. And as we talk about Noah's death and how terribly we miss him he seems to be very much as peace with the fact that God has Noah and that he doesn't need for us to worry or pray for him. Jarrett has his moments of sadness and I know he's grieving but his emotions are not in the form of tears. They come through reflective thoughts when he's quiet and I can tell he's replaying the events from the past month over and over in his mind. We have reminders of Noah all over our house, I've told you everywhere I turn there are reminders. While I want to have those reminders, Jarrett seems unsure of them. He thinks they may be causing me more pain as I look at them and have to remember what happened. Jarrett has jumped back into work with two feet and said it provides him with some distraction. I told him I think distractions only work for a temporary period of time and it is important to feel what we feel. Again these are uncharted waters, we all have to grieve in our own way.
If there is one thing we both feel so strongly on with this whole grieving thing is that we have to stick together. The books share it, the doctors and nurses told us... you two have to stick together to get through this. Sadly events like this often cause couples to fall apart. We will not be another sad statistic to come from such an already sad event. So we try our best to keep helping one another the best way we know now. Having that week in the hospital together before Noah arrived was wonderful for our relationship. It was a scary time for both of us but we grew closer in those five days, than probably we have in a long time.. see with kids, bonding as a couple doesn't always make the top of the to do list. Not that we were ever unbonded, it was just that, the time in the hospital gave us time to be together, to talk, to reflect and to be in the moments of what was happening. It made me realize even more how lucky I am to have him as my partner. And I hope it did the same for him... although I'm not sure carrying your spouse to the bathroom and measuring her pee output every 45 minutes would count as couple bonding to Jarrett.
In this timeliness period of grief, I just hope I can be there for Jarrett as much as he has been there for me.
I continue to grieve, I feel very openly, sharing my feelings here, and even more openly with Jarrett. I had told him I was feeling very sad yesterday, even with my rainbow reminder, I have moments when the sorrow just takes over. I replay the days from June 6 through June 25th over and over in my mind. From my days in antepartum with the wonderful nurses, the visitors, the love and overwhelming support of so many praying for us. I vividly remember the days in the NICU, how every minute seemed so important and the love that grew tenfold every time we were near our son. I replay those days over and over and when I think of how I want to go back and relive them, to please let me have a different ending. And then, my eyes realize where I am and I'm reminded of the present I live in and sadness comes back so quickly.
It seems when those moments of despair hit, I've been so lucky to have reminders occur that give me encouragement that so many are thinking, praying for us, that we have to keep going. Yesterday's reminder came in the form of a phone call... the number popped up on my screen and I didn't recognize it, but I answered right away... "Hello, this is Angie." I said. The voice on the other end said, "Angie, this is Bilha." Hearing her voice made tears welled in my eyes. It was almost as if she could sense my mind wouldn't stop thinking about her. Bilha was one of my amazing nurses in antepartum. She was with me at the beginning of my stay and cared for me as if I was her daughter. She was so genuine, so caring, so loving and we connected right away. She had worked the weekend and had a few days off so before she left for her last shift she said, "You keep laying here until I get back... I kept my promise, and laid there. On the night Noah was delivered she came in and said, "Kristal and I were fighting over who got to be your nurse and I let her win this time." with her joking spirit she always made me laugh. As I was getting wheeled back to labor and delivery on the night of the 12th, she stopped in to see me. She grabbed my hand and said she'd be thinking of me. She always made my heart feel so full.
As we talked on the phone last night, she shared with me that she hadn't been able to stop thinking about us and that she was so sorry to hear about Noah. She asked us if we had had a service for him because she wanted to be there. "I'll take off work if I have to." I had to tell her we had already had his service but that I would share the tribute video we made for him and that she made an appearance in it."
Bilha asked how Jarrett, the kids and I were doing and I told her we were doing our best to get by. I told her I was so sorry I didn't get to see her the day we took treats to the hospital as a thank you for the staff. I told her I wasn't sure how to get in touch with her as I thought about calling the department but I didn't know if they would tell me when she was working next. She said they probably wouldn't tell me. I repeatedly told her how thankful I was to hear from her and just hearing her voice made me feel encouraged again, I can get through this.
I told her I wanted to definitely keep in touch and I'd love to get together. I've mentioned it here before, but I feel such a strong connection to the people we met at the hospital and I think it is because of the amazing care we received, the fact that we were loved like we were family and because besides our parents, and some close family members, they were the only other ones to have known our son and loved him like we do. Although we feel such great loss in not having Noah here, I told Bilha I thank Noah for bringing so many wonderful people into our lives... she is one of those people I am so thankful for.
Bilha, if you are reading this... thank you for calling me. It was just what I needed at that moment. I love you and will be forever thankful for you.
The world of grief is hard, it is terrible; it honestly is. I don't wish this upon anyone and yet, grief is a part of life. We trudge on each in our own ways, doing our best to make it through the day, the hour, sometimes even the minute. We stick together and we grieve together. I know no other way.
Until next time,
Angie
Even in the midst of your grief, you're still an excellent mother to your older children. Very heartbreaking to read the boys letters, but I'm sure it's good for them to know that you are listening to their feelings and giving them opportunities to express themselves.
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