Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Due Date

Another difficult day.  Today was Ezra's due date.  I purposely have not been looking at a calendar because I knew this day was approaching, but it arrived even with me trying not to notice.  For months I had been looking toward this date as one of the happiest in my life, but instead I found myself standing with Randall at the cemetery, staring at a vase full of sunflowers, crying for my baby.

I miss you, my Ezra Gryffin.  Mommy loves you.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Hello, Goodbye

Happy 3 week birthday, my little Ezra.  I can't believe it's already been 3 weeks since we said hello and then goodbye to you.  Mommy and Daddy miss you so much, my sweet little prince.

An outsider looking in would think that Randall and I seem much improved since last week.  It's true that our tears have been less, but our hearts are still hurting beyond belief.  Tuesdays are definitely the worst days of the week because it marks another week since we lost our baby.  When I wake up on Tuesday morning, my feet barely hit the ground before tears stream down my face.  I miss my baby so much.  Today was a day when all I wanted to do was feel him in my arms again and hold him.  I just can't get the thought of it out of my head.  I've prayed for strength more today that almost any day since the funeral.  If it wasn't for the strength from God, I would have been sitting in a heap in the floor crying my eyes out all day today.  I still had my moments, but I at least made it through the day on my feet.

Randall worked yesterday and today planting the trees from HPES and RVES that were sent in memory of Ezra.  We planted the crape myrtle (picture on right) on the side of the house in the grassy part that was in desperate need of a tree.  It looks so pretty and I can't wait to see it when it blooms next summer.

The dogwood (picture on left) is phase one of the Ezra memory garden.  Right now it has the dogwood in the center, the memorial stepping stone, three mums above the surface and 24 bulbs below the surface that will be coming up in the spring.  12 tulips and 12 daffodils.  I think Ezra will enjoy looking down on it this spring and seeing all the beautiful colors.  Nothing to compare, I'm sure, to what he's seeing now, but at least he will know that his Mommy and Daddy planted them while thinking of him.  Or, to be more realistic, Daddy planted them while Mommy looked on from the porch to supervise.  Because Mommy doesn't like bugs or worms...or dirt for that matter.  But Mommy loves Ezra - so I'll do the picking out of the flowers at Lowe's and let Daddy plant them...

Phase 2 of the Ezra garden is going to have a second layer of edging outside the first circle and it will be filled with tiny pea rocks.  We are going to move the memorial stepping stone out to this layer and then we are going to put four pots with flowers in it that we will change for the seasons.  We're hoping to start on it in the next couple of weeks.  I can't wait to see the finished product.

I feel like I'm jumping around as I'm writing tonight, but I wanted to say thank you for all the comments and messages I've gotten about writing this blog.  It has made me cry and smile to read all of your stories and feel your support.  I felt this support when we announced back in February that we were expecting, when we revealed that we were having a boy (and there were a ton of people we found out later clicking refresh because they were excited), and now I feel it in his passing to heaven.  Even though I haven't really been able to see it these past three weeks, I am so blessed.  I didn't start writing this blog for pity and I'm thankful that most of you haven't seen it as that.  As a message that I got on facebook tonight said, "I feel like I know your heart better and know more how to pray for you."  And prayers are what is helping me to get through the most painful days of my life.

Tonight I post the "Hello, Goodbye" lyrics by Michael W. Smith that were read at Ezra's funeral.  I love you, Ezra Gryffin.


Hello, Goodbye

Where is the navigator of your destiny?
Where is the dealer of this hand?
Who can explain life and it's brevity?
'Cause there is nothing here that I can understand.
You and I have barely met
And I just don't want to let go of you yet.

Ezra, hello, goodbye
I'll see you on the other side.
Ezra, sweet child of mine
I'll see you on the other side.

And so I hold your tiny hand in mine
For the very hardest thing I've ever had to face
Heaven calls for you
Before it calls for me.
When you get there, save me a place
A place where I can share your smile
And I can hold you for more than just awhile.

Ezra, hello, goodbye
I'll see you on the other side.
Ezra, sweet child of mine
I'll see you on the other side.



Saturday, August 27, 2011

What Makes a Mother?

It's been a hard couple of days.  Yesterday Randall and I went to Walmart for the first time since the day before the doctor's appointment.  Our plan was to go during the day while our students and coworkers would be at school so that we would be able to get in, get our groceries, and get out.  Well, we forgot that it was race weekend and that the TN schools were out for the day so Walmart was bombarded with kids.  Not kids that we knew, but kids nonetheless.  And babies...tons of babies.  Every time I turned a corner, there was another baby and I felt my heart wrench with each one.  I just hope that each Mommy and Daddy knew just how blessed they were to have those beautiful babies.

When I was helping Randall put our purchases up on the counter, I laid the sunflowers and vase that we were buying to put on Ezra's plot at the cemetery.  A huge lump welled up in my throat.  It hurt so bad to realize that I was buying flowers for my precious baby's grave when I should have been buying diapers and formula. In the months before Ezra was born I had been pouring over books and internet articles about the best diapers and formula and how to hold the bottle and how to change my sweet baby...I had been so nervous about doing something wrong and I just wanted to be the perfect Mommy for my Ezra.  And I could look back on those times and think it was a waste.  But, I choose to think of it as me showing love to Ezra even then.  From the moment I knew he was coming I loved him so much that I wanted everything to be perfect for him.  I wanted to do everything for him to make him the happiest baby in the world.  I wanted him to know that he was loved beyond belief.  And researching and practicing and asking questions to anyone who would answer was my way to do that.  Ezra was loved.  Is loved.

Yesterday was hard.  But today was even harder.  We got a package in the mail today from Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep, the organization that took pictures of Ezra the night he was born.  We knew they were coming at some point this week, but I don't think I was mentally prepared for what I was going to see.  I told Ezra the other night when we visited him that it made me sad because I was starting to forget what his precious face looked like on the night he was born and I was looking forward to getting his pictures so that I could remember.  Seeing his sweet little face today brought waves of emotions for both Randall and me.  He was so tiny and so fragile.  But so beautiful.  They took one picture of his little feet with our wedding rings and three of his toes fit inside our rings and nearly all his fingers would fit inside.  These aren't pictures that we want to show around to our friends, but these are pictures that will be so special for Randall and me and our families. Like I said in one of my first posts, he is our SON.  He is the first grandchild for my parents.  He's the first grandson for Randall's parents.  He is not going to be forgotten.  If God blesses us with other children in the future, they will know about their big brother who is in heaven.  They will go with Randall and me to the cemetery to put flowers on Ezra's grave.  They will know about him.  And when they are old enough, they can see these pictures of him to put a face to the stories that they've heard about their older brother.

One of the poems that we had read at Ezra's funeral was called "What Makes a Mother?" and I think it's very fitting to put the words to it with this post.  I love you, my little Ezra.


What Makes A Mother?

I thought of you and closed my eyes
And prayed to God today
I asked "What makes a Mother?"
And I know I heard Him say
A Mother has a baby
This we know is true
But, God, can you be a mother
When your baby's not with you?

Yes, you can He replied
With confidence in His voice
I give many women babies
When they leave it is not their choice
Some I send for a lifetime
And others for the day
And some I send to fill your womb
But there's no need to stay.


I just don't understand this, God
I want my baby here.

He took a breath
and cleared his throat
And then I saw a tear
I wish I could show you
What your child is doing today
If you could see your child smile
With other children and say

"We go to earth to learn our lessons
of love and life and fear
My mommy loved me so much
I got to come straight here
I feel so lucky to have a Mom who had so much love for me
I learned my lessons very quickly
My Mommy set me free.”

I miss my Mommy oh so much
But I visit her each day
When she goes to sleep
On her pillow’s where I lay
I stroke her hair and kiss her cheek
And whisper in her ear
Mommy don't be sad today
I'm your baby and I am here"
So you see my dear sweet one
Your baby is okay
Your baby is here in My home
And this is where he’ll stay
He’ll wait for you with Me
Until your lessons are through
And on the day you come home
He’ll be at the gates for you

So now you see
What makes a Mother
It's the feeling in your heart
It's the love you had so much of
Right from the very start
Though some on earth
May not realize
Until their time is done
Remember all the love you have
And know that you are
A Special Mom

Author Unknown

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Just breathe....

So today my sweet baby would have been two weeks old.  Tonight we should have been giving him a final bottle before bedtime and holding/rocking him until his sweet little eyelids closed for the night...or at least for a few hours.  We should have been tiptoeing around the bassinet and climbing into bed ourselves to get a few hours of sleep until we were awoken again with hungry cries.  We should have been staring at him all day long or holding him and listening for sweet baby coos. 

Instead, we were having our nightly visit at the cemetery.  And asking "why."  I guess that's still the stage Randall and I are both in - the "whys".  Why can't we have our son here with us?  Why are there so many babies everywhere we go?  Why can everyone else have their babies with them when ours is in a cemetery?  Why?

We went and sat with Mom at the hospital this morning while Dad had a stress test completed.  Afterward, they asked us to go to IHOP with them.  I agreed and then half way across the hospital parking lot towards our car I panicked.  We hadn't been out to eat since we went to Bonanza on Sunday before our world came crashing down.  Someone has either brought us food each night or we've gone through the drive-thru.  I couldn't imagine walking into a restaurant without Ezra in his seat on my arm.  But even though I cried all the way there, I managed to get through the door and through the meal.  It was as hard as I thought it would be.  There was a little boy behind us with his parents and every time I heard his voice I wondered what Ezra's voice would have sounded like.  When I saw him walk with his mommy to the bathroom, I wondered if Ezra would have had shoes like his.  I wondered what color eyes Ezra's would have been.  Would he have had brown hair or blond hair?  Would he have had curls?  And again I began to ask "why".  Why did I have to sit there and ask these questions instead of holding my baby in my arms?

When we left the cemetery tonight, there was a song playing on the radio that I thought was very fitting for the moment.  It's a sentiment I have to remind myself of several times during the day.  Here's the chorus from "Breathe" by Anna Nalick:

'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl.
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe

Just breathe.  Just take it one day at a time.  Just breathe.....

Sunday, August 21, 2011

The Smell of Lilies


August 16, 2011

The funeral home brought over all the flowers yesterday.  They are now positioned all around my living room.  One particularly large arrangement sits in front of the fire place, right beside my spot on the couch.  It is full of lilies.  And it is strong.  Every time I get a whiff of the fragrance, it takes me back to the funeral home where we stood in front of our beautiful baby’s casket.  I don’t think l like lilies anymore.

We went this morning to order Ezra’s marker.  It’s going to be beautiful.  It’s granite with a teddy bear and a block etched out on it.  I wish it could be up there today, but it will take 6 to 8 weeks for the order to come in and have it placed.  Afterwards we went and visited with Ezra for a while at the cemetery.  It’s so peaceful up there.  Even though the sun was warm today, the area where he is laid is shady and peaceful.  We tell him every time we visit him how much we love him.  I don’t ever think I could say it enough.

I’m having a pretty melancholy day today.  I took a long nap after we came home from the cemetery while Randall watched TV.  Last night was rough.  I thought I would never get to sleep.  I just kept thinking about all the things that I had planned to do with Ezra.  Things that will never come to fruition.  I know it sounds selfish of me to say, but I just feel so cheated.  Everywhere I look, on the computer, on the television, in emails, riding down the street, I see babies with their parents.  And I wonder why I didn’t get to be one of mommies to Ezra.  I know that I am his Mommy and always will be, but I just feel like I got cheated out of so much with him.  I feel so lucky that I got to hold him for a while in the hospital, but it wasn’t long enough.  His little skin was so fragile so I was almost afraid to touch him or move him.  I didn’t get to kiss his little head or hold his little fingers.  

I dread the coming holidays.  Halloween has always been one of my favorites and I had already started looking for the perfect Halloween costume for Ezra.  I like the tree frog, but Randall was leaning towards a simple one since he would have been so little and he didn’t want him to be uncomfortable.  I had already bought him a bib for Thanksgiving that said “Everyone is Thankful for Me.”  No truer words have ever been written.  And then there’s Christmas.  Randall and I had been talking about Christmas with our little Ezra for months.  We wanted to get matching family pajamas and wear them up to Mom and Dad’s for Christmas morning.  We couldn’t wait for him to see the lights on the Christmas tree.  And now…there’s no stocking to hang with ours.  There’s no presents to put under the tree with Ezra’s name on them.  There’s no elf to sit on the shelf to start our first family tradition.  How do we make it through the coming months???

The Burial


August 15, 2011

Today was completely surreal.  We buried our son today.  While we were sitting there facing that beautiful white casket that held the tiny body of my angel Ezra, I couldn't help but think how he should instead be in the bassinet that his daddy put together for him.  I longed to rip the top off the casket and hold him just one more time.  But one more time would never be enough.  It would never be enough.  So instead I sat in between Randall and Daddy and cried.  My heart was broken....is broken.

The only consolation on this horrific day was that the temperatures were cool and it didn't rain.  When I woke up this morning and saw the dark clouds, I at first thought that it was fitting for my mood, but then I prayed that it would clear up because that would just bring me down further, if that was possible.  While we were sitting there during the ceremony, the sun seemed to break through the clouds like my precious little boy was shining down on us, letting us know that it was going to be okay.  Although I can't seem to get this through to my heart right now, my head tells me that there will be brighter days, even if I cannot see them right now.

After the service was over, we sat there and just stared at the casket.  It was as if I could not will myself to get out of the chair and move away from my baby.  Perhaps it was because I knew that as soon as I did they would begin the process of putting his casket in the ground and all that would be left for me to see would be dirt and flowers.  I know that Ezra is sitting in heaven with Jesus right now, but just having his little body close to me gave me a sense of comfort.  Strange, I know.  I miss him so much.  Mostly I miss what I never got to have with him.  All the dreams I had for him were buried with him this morning.  All the plans I had for us as a family are under the red clay dirt at the cemetery.  I wanted so bad to hold him and rock him and sing lullabies to him.  I wish so much that I had had done this at the hospital when I had the chance with him.  But I didn't and I regret that so much.  I wanted to read books to him and hear him say "mama."  I wanted to watch him toddle across the floor and clap when his chubby little legs made even one step across the room.  I wanted to play cars with him and build castles out of playdough.  I wanted to walk him to his first day of kindergarten.  I wanted to hug him and kiss him and chase the monsters from out under his bed.  But instead, I have a room full of baby stuff that I can't even bear to look at, a living room full of flowers that are making my allergies go crazy, and a book of condolences.  Where do I go from here? 

The Funeral


August 14, 2011

Today seemed to be like the longest day of my life but at the same time I didn't want it to end.  We sat around with Mom and Dad before going to the funeral home for most of the day.  We napped when we could because we were simply exhausted from the events of the previous week.  We fixed the pictures in frames that we wanted to put beside the casket at the funeral home.  We got dressed.  I felt like I was walking around in a fog all day long.  I couldn't imagine that in a few hours we would be having a funeral service for our son.  What about the christening service?  What about his kindergarten graduation?  No, it wasn't right that we were getting cheated out of all of that.  His funeral should NOT occur when he only weighed a little over 3 pounds.  It should NOT occur before he had a chance to live outside my belly.  It should NOT occur with some many events left incomplete.  But as unfair as it seemed to me, the time came and we had to go.

When we arrived at the funeral home, we put out the pictures that we had taken the Saturday before our world came crashing down.  How grateful we are to have those maternity pictures.  We rearranged some of the flowers and had the front looking as perfect as we could for our little angel.  We spent some time with him telling him how much we loved him and always would.  Then we went into the family room to wait for the service to start.  Time seemed to speed by as we sat there and in no time we were being ushered back into the chapel.  I wanted it to take longer because the beginning of the service signaled the beginnings of our goodbyes.  And I didn't want to say goodbye.

The service was absolutely perfect...as perfect as could be when you are talking about the funeral of your son.  Randall and I had worked hard to find some readings that would accompany Chuck's message and they seemed to fit so well with what he spoke of that night.  When we were looking for music, Randall immediately thought of the Selah song "I Will Carry You" and we asked Jamie Williams to sing it, knowing that it would be beautiful.  The words seemed to speak what we were thinking:
There were photographs I wanted to take
Things I wanted to show you
Sing sweet lullabies, wipe your teary eyes
Who could love you like this?
People say that I am brave but I'm not
Truth is I'm barely hanging on
But there's a greater story
Written long before me
Because He loves you like this

So I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All my life
And I will praise the One who's chosen me
To carry you

Such a short time
Such a long road
All this madness
But I know
That the silence
Has brought me to His voice
And He says
 I've shown her photographs of time beginning
Walked her through the parted seas
Angel lullabies, no more teary eyes
Who could love her like this?

I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All your life
And I will praise the One who's chosen Me
To carry you 

We changed the shes to hes when Jamie sang it.  We also had three readings, which I'll post later, that seemed to capture what our hearts were feeling.  Our choir from Cassidy also sang, and it was such a sweet tribute to this boy who was surrounded by music from the moment he was conceived.  Almost more beautiful than the words that were spoken and the songs that were sung was the outpouring of love from our friends and family.  The lady from Akard estimated that there were around 350 people who were there to support us and love Ezra.  There were so many people that they had to put chairs in the foyer and show the service over a closed circuit television.  After the service, they had planned for us to go stand in the foyer and greet people as they left, but there were so many people that they led us back to the family room and let people file through there.  I felt so much love through the hugs and tears of the people who came through.  It was exhausting, but a comfort at the same time.  Ezra was loved.  Even though these people never got to see him or meet him, they loved him.