I didn't know how I'd feel going into the holidays this year although I openly admit, when I thought of it, it made me sad to think of all the firsts we were not going to be able to celebrate. And yet, my true love of Christmas made me look forward to the holidays with the same awe and wonder I feel each season.
In going with the theme of this year, this Christmas is going to be different than what I would have planned. Not only is Noah not here with us but this year we will be celebrating as a family... apart. Yes, you read that correctly.
To basically make a long story short, this year has been difficult for all of us, not just Jarrett and I. Our children have struggled as they each work through the grief of losing their longed for brother in ways each their own and some with more success than the others.
Of Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle, Michael has struggled the most, and while we don't know fully what has caused his actions as of late, we (along with the help of professionals) believe losing his brother has not only caused grief for him, but also a resurgence of many emotions, feelings and insecurities from his life before us. Without going into specifics, the last few months in our home hasn't been easy or pretty, as we struggle to find out why Michael's feeling the way he does, why his actions come out the way they do, and how we can get through to him to help... as that is what we want more than anything.
Of the many different outlets we've tried, one thing we've found, that seems to be a light in a dark cave, is that Michael connects with and has attached to his grandfather. Many children who have been in foster care or suffered significant losses like our children have, suffer from attachment disorder. Many times it is because they didn't receive the care they needed as infants, many times it is from situations I don't even like to think about.
When Michael gets to spend time with Grandma and Grandpa, but especially my dad, I see him light up and connect/engage in a way we often don't see. A couple of weeks ago, my parents came out for a short visit and as the time for them to say goodbye again came, it was clear, Michael's heart was very heavy. My parents suggested that we surprise our boys and for Christmas give them a trip to Iowa. Our kids love Iowa and what awaits them back there, more than they like Disneyland. Okay it might be a close second, but still, to them Iowa is a vast open wonderland of fun.
At my parents first suggestion, I scoffed, no way I thought. What kind of mother would send her children away on Christmas? And then I walked into say goodnight to them to find both boys tears in their eyes that their time with Grandma and Grandpa was so short... again. And then Jarrett and I started to talk about it... What would be the worst that could come from it... yes we'd have to pay outrageous airline price at such late notice and yes I'd feel sad to not hug and kiss my kids on Christmas morning, but what about their happiness?
The more I thought about it, the more I realized, maybe Jarrett, my mom and dad were right. Wouldn't giving them a trip to Iowa, a trip where they didn't have their mom over their every shoulder telling them what they could and couldn't do, be the best gift ever? Thinking of their reaction and each time we've told them we were going to Iowa, I knew immediately how they would react.
And then we talked to others, our counselors in part to get their input. Their response, echoed the tiny tiny voice in my head that was allowing me to consider it. For Michael and Gabriel, maybe it would be a nice break they have needed from the stress, the sadness and grief that has consumed our house these last six months. Maybe, just maybe knowing that this will be an emotional holiday in our home, giving them this trip would spare them from added sadness we feel but remains voiceless.
And so that tiny voice in my head, turned into an accepting okay as long as we can Skype, I can talk to them anytime I need and that they know, it wasn't I didn't want to spend Christmas with them, it was that I want their happiness more than I want my heart to feel satisfied. So we said yes.
Last Tuesday we held our family Christmas and fighting back tears, I watched the boys open the box under the three that held the sign I had made for them announcing their Christmas gift from us this year. You should have seen the light in their eyes as the read the message they were going to get to spend Christmas in Iowa. Their reaction priceless, I don't know why I didn't think to record it, but in those minutes of celebration I was confident we had made the right choice.
Does that mean my heart won't be sad on Christmas morning as I wake up to all of my boys not with me, no, I know my heart will feel all of their absences fully, but the truth is my heart was going to feel an absence anyway. I will still smile knowing they will wake up on Christmas morning happy and in a home that won't be burdened down with the grief we still so strongly feeling in missing Noah.
So Christmas apart... its the theme of 2015. I just pray 2016 bring us a Christmas that feels the opposite.
If I had any doubts just how much fun the boys would have had, their phone calls and updates remind me, of the joy they are living. Gabriel and Michael have become entrepreneurs, setting up their own cleaning business, with hopes of raking in the dough. Michael told me his goal is to make $10,000 over break. If nothing else he sets high goals right? Gabriel is the worker I understand while Michael will manage the business. In hearing the boys talk, I feel like I can hear that spunk, that spark, that "I'm gonna keep you guessing" spirit that has always been our Michael... up until late.
The boys are having fun and that makes my heart happy for them.
And while they are having fun back in Iowa, Isabelle, Dad and I are enjoying time together. Isabelle has never known what's its like to have all of mom AND dad's attention all at the same time. While she always demands lots of attention I think she's enjoying the extra one-on-one time.
Last night Isabelle, Dad and I build a gingerbread house and we laughed and smiled all while doing it. As we worked to assemble it, Isabelle turned to me, as I was seated next to her and said, "Mom, is Baby Noah done at the hospital yet? We need his help here." I looked at her, fought with my internal might to hold back the tears welling in my eyes, and looked to Jarrett as if to say, "help."
Isabelle continues to ask and talk about her brother more frequently than anyone else. Most mornings as she brushes her teeth she'll sing a song about loving her baby brother that is to her own beat and with words she puts together. And then there's the questions in the car, in her room, at night when I tuck her in, or at dinner, breakfast and lunch... "Mommy, where is Heaven?" "Why is Baby Noah in Heaven?" "Why can't we see Heaven?" "I want to see Baby Noah, can we go now?" More days than not, I have no idea how to answer them in terms an adult would understand, let alone a three year old. But at the same time, I long to hear her questions, I hope she never stops asking them and I pray that she will always remember her baby brother Noah.
The other day I came across an article from a mother who had lost her baby in utero, and she struggled to find the words to explain to others how she felt, or what she had lost. As she went through her feelings and explaining how she looks at death differently, I couldn't help but relate. She stated that she looks forward to Heaven someday as it means she will get to meet and be with the child she never got to know, to raise, to love in person. I feel wholly the same. But she also said she views the death of her child, with an understanding that her baby was never really hers anyway. She said, "I believe we are all children of God and that our mighty spirit allowed me to carry this child for so many days before calling home his own. As his mother, I was allowed to be with him for a set, short amount of time, but in the end, he wasn't really mine." At first reading, I stopped and thought, NO WAY. I do not agree with her perspective at all. Noah was and will always be a creation of love from Jarrett and I. But then I sat and thought some more. Isabelle asks me frequently, "Why is Baby Noah in Heaven?" and then I realized how I answer her every single time, "Honey, Baby Noah in his Heaven because Jesus needed him there." It hit me, I guess this grieving mother who I so fully disagreed with was right... I believe we are all called home at the time God decides and for Noah his time to go home was at 12 days old. As much as it breaks my heart, its the truth, I should be grateful for the 24 weeks and 12 days the Lord let me have him.
On Christmas day Noah would have been 6 months and as millions of children across this world wake up to gifts, I know my heart will be wondering what Christmas morning in Heaven looks like. I pray to feel Noah close to us that day, I pray that happiness finds its way through the heartache and I smile looking forward to Isabelle's reaction as she rips open her gifts.... for pure happiness on Christmas morning can surely be found in a three-year-old eyes right?
So many emotions this Christmas... so many feelings to feel.
Until next time,
angie
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