Two Little Boys

Thursday, September 10, 2015 1 Comments A+ a-

Grief is a weird thing.  I’ve decided that not only does grief affect every person differently, it manifests differently in each situation too.  When Grandma Nancy died in 2012, I was so much more open in my grief.  Blog posts, IG images, and FB statuses about grief, pain, and the loss  of her presence, filled my life during that time.  Upon the loss of my nephews, I shut down and internalized so much.  I’m still shaking my head over that, wondering what could be the underlying motivator in keeping my pain and thoughts to myself.


I don’t know if I felt permitted to grieve nephews I’ve never held or touched, not the same way I’m allowed to grieve the loss of a grandmother.  Infant loss is a different world, there even seems to be a wide spectrum within the world of infant loss.  From miscarriage to 2nd trimester to 3rd trimester to newborn and beyond, it feels as though there’s an allowance for pain depending on when the loss happened.  And if its murky for mothers and fathers, imagine how more confusing it is for extended family.  Until Courtney lost Hastings and Campbell, I didn’t get it.  I can pretend I got it, I thought I could say the right things and give correct answers.  But I didn’t get it.  Not really.

The depth of pain this past summer has shocked me.  I was completely unaware of the impact that those two boys had on me, and what the loss of them would do to me.  I constantly told Jon that it felt like a bad nightmare.  I look back on 2015 and I wondered how it was possible to feel like I’d aged ten years in the blink of an eye.  Could I possibly  have imagined it all?  I was so very unprepared.  As the aunt, I knew it would hurt but I figured it would be a short journey.  As month two and month three passed and the ache continued, I was forced to admit that this had rocked me far more than I thought possible.

I never doubted God.  I never doubted that He is sovereign, that He is good, or that His plan is better.  But I no longer cared.  I didn’t care that this had been His plan all along.  I didn’t care that He is trustworthy.  I was ambivalent.  I stopped praying because really, what’s the point, I cried.  For three months I stopped praying because I no longer had anything to say to Him.  I just walked away.  I told Jon and close family and friends not to worry, that I’d be back.  But I needed to not hear Christian platitudes for a summer.

I’m making my way back to Him.  I’m not going to lie, praying is stilted and awkward right now.  Its true that when you stop using it, the muscles weaken and the same can be said of prayer life.  I’m curious to see where I’ll be a month from now.  And I’ve been on this road long enough to know that time will help heal.  I’m counting on that…

Their due date is this weekend.  And I can’t even see those words clearly through the tears in my eyes.  Once we found out that Courtney was expecting twins, we knew they’d never make it to their due date.  But there’s something final in the passing of their due date.  I’ve found myself reflecting a lot this week, there’s been an ever present lump in my throat that I can’t swallow or make go away.  It feels raw all over again.  And maybe its because they were supposed to be here by now.  We were supposed to be taking turns and flying to Philadephia to help Courtney care for her boys.  We were supposed to be ooohing and aaahing over twenty fingers and twenty toes.  I was supposed to be pestering Courtney for pictures of my nephews.  And instead we have aching hearts and empty arms, and all I can think is that it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

I have no words of comfort to offer my baby sister.  How can I, when my loss pales in comparison to hers?  Instead we move forward, through each hour, each day and wait for the time when the ache has dulled and when the burden isn’t quite so heavy.  All I have to give is a promise to Courtney and Jeremy that their boys aren’t forgotten, they can’t possibly be forgotten, because they left their mark on all who had the privilege to know them in their short lives.  I will never be the same after this year, and its because of those two little boys.  Who are still very, very much missed…

I’m a coffee drinking, book reading, laundry procrastinating, husband and children loving, mess of a woman who believes that chips and salsa can fix anything. We have chickens running around the backyard, a mountain of dishes in the sink, and on any given morning, I have at least 10 school forms that need my signature or initials. It’s a crazy life {I prefer to call it controlled chaos}, but its ours.


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Kim H.
7:52 AM delete

I'm so very sorry for everyone's loss. My heart breaks for you can for Courtney. I wish that there were words to make it feel better, but there just aren't. I'm praying that God will reveal himself and give you all a peace about His will for those baby boys.