This post is in honor of my 40-day old son Noah Joseph Brown
I am so happy that on this particular evening Noah fell into a peaceful sleep upon laying him on the kitchen counter so I could get something to eat. The sun was shining into the kitchen casting the perfect light, and he was just so cute that day my inner photographer came out of me and had to grab my heavy duty camera.
He always had that cute little scowl on his face-- the frowny face. People always said he looked so serious, like he was deep in thought. When he would look into your eyes, he'd look at you with those deep dark practically black eyes and see into your soul. I loved having staring contests with him. He was always so aware and so attentive even as a newborn. He could follow faces, and look directly into your eye. This is something Izzy didn't do so it stood out to me.
I might as well mention his smell while i'm at it. You know how all babies come out having their own unique fragrance? When I had Isabel - she came out smelling sweet. I figured that was normal for all babies. Well when Noah came out he smelled just like earth or dirt! He just had that more "earthy" smell about him and he maintained that all the way up until the day he passed. I still have the swaddle he passed away in.... and smell it on occassion and it just brings back a flood of memories and feelings. I miss that smell so much. I miss my "little man".
There was just something about him, something different. Being around him you just got the sense that he was a strong and mighty man, even though he just had a little body. I am learning that with newborn babies especially (maybe because the veil is still so thin)...You can often get a glimpse or sense into what type of personality or spirit a newborn child has. I believe that this is one reason why he was called back home so soon.... his strength and power are really needed on the other side of the veil. I believe he is going to be helping to strengthen and lift me - I already feel his influence.
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I was thinking this might be a post about everything that has happened to me. But i'll keep it simple. I've gone over the story so many times with so many people. I am a bit "burnt out" on it. Part of me has gone numb to it all, and the numbness makes me sad because I want so badly to remember everything. The panic, the fear, the confusion, the hurt, the anger, the loss, the crying, the complete and utter loneliness that I felt on that awful day. The "WHAT?" feeling. The SHOCK and terror and disbelief. The prayers, the heartfelt prayers I prayed. The desperation for a miracle - to bring him back to life - being persistent in believing he would come back to life, that this wasn't over. "I kept feeling - he was supposed to be a part of our family!" I had no feelings or obvious premonitions that he was ever to leave me. Not like Josh had the night before, but his feeling was that his grandpa was about to pass. Not both on one day.
I had a revelation while talking to a friend of mine the other day. I told her "maybe that is why I felt so strongly that he was SUPPOSED to be a part of our family! This is why I was so confused and hurt, thinking I had done this - that he was taken before his time. I felt this way because he really never left us, he is a part of our family now in a very real way. He will continue to be our son, to be present for family events, meals, family home evenings, prayers, etc. He is a part of our life now in a more powerful way. But it never made sense to me in the moment. I felt that the world was spinning out of control. That I had screwed up, failed God, failed my family.
The first thing I did when I found my son, was scream "Oh no Oh no Oh no, no no no no. I didn't mean to do this! I was only trying to do my best!!" Over and over and over. The guilt is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. The weight of the world was upon my shoulders, and I couldn't even look a stranger in the eye, let alone family or friends. When my neighbor asked me if he could call my husband I pleaded "no, please no not yet!" I felt AWFUL. I felt imbarrased. People who lose their children to SIDS are only parents who are irresponsible and neglectful. SIDS is just another term for "child neglect" I thought.
You never understand until it happens to you, or someone near you.
You can never comprehend what *hate* is until you lose your own newborn child. The hate, of coarse, was aimed at myself. I was so sick with self hate that I could barely stand, my knees were weak. I couldn't even go upstairs to get Isabel ready to go to the hospital. I was just collapsed on the floor weeping and sobbing into my own shirt. Imbarrassed of the whole thing, in disbelief my son could actually be dead. In my head I felt there was still hope (even though deep down inside my heart I knew he was gone) I refused to let go. I refused to let him go. He's still alive. When I passed him off to the EMT lady screaming "save my baby!" I felt instant relief. I just KNEW they would bring him back, that all would be well. Hopefully he didn't have too much brain damage - that was my worry. But my pride and ego kept me from admitting to myself what I already knew....
HOW can anyone face the reality? How can any Mother face the reality in a moment like this?
I keep telling people - I would rather have had my son pass away from SOMETHING KNOWN, so that I knew it wasn't my fault. I could blame the disease. I could blame someone else. But no, it happened on my watch, and there's no obvious reason that it should have happened. It only leads me to believe it was me and so the hate is directed towards myself. I couldn't forgive myself. I just KNEW it was me. I wasn't listening to the spirit, I thought. I was too busy that day. I let him fuss too long. I should have turned off our window unit so I could hear him better. Even though it was minutes after I heard him cry before I went to check on him. Minutes! How could something this traumatic have happened so fast?
Well I will spare all the details. I will tell you though that the first night was the WORST night of my life! My bones ached, my muscles tense, my mind replaying the same scene over and over and over again, thinking, wondering, wishing I would have done something different. Kind of like the movie inception. Trying to do everything, in my mind, to bring him back.
In the morning Josh and I prayed the most heartfelt and sincere prayer that I have ever prayed. We both woke up saying "we just need to pray in faith. Lazarus was raised from the dead in 3 days, why not our son?" We really did believe, and we prayed as if he would come back to us. I imagined him being back in my arms, and the feeling of relief that it would be. And yet, that tiny but powerful feeling inside of me told me again "he's gone, this isn't God's will. Time to let him go."
I tried to tell myself "if he doesn't come back to us, I believe that he will make this bearable...." so after I said that prayer, I asked him "Please, at least let me know if it was his time to go. This is ALL I ask. Because If I can't get a answer I can't live with myself." So I believed he'd answer me somehow, someway.
I wont share how my pleadings were answered, but I will say they were.
It is the reason that I have so much peace now.
The message I want to share today, and that I know Noah would want me to share with you is of the power of prayer. The power of faith IN prayer, and in God. To trust in his will.... and if you aren't certain ask him. It is THE ONLY thing that has brought me any peace. It is the ONLY hope I have to be able to forgive myself of this. I don't know how people can get by without that peace and reassurance from God. Life would be pretty awful.
I just want to share my testimony, and say that I know that there is ALWAYS a light to be seen in the dark. He never ever leaves us comfortless. Even in my night of hell - I had a very tiny, speckle of hope. I held on to that hope because it's the only thing I could do to not go crazy. What else can you do? In this situation it is either A. go crazy B. Go numb - seek out some sort of addiction or C. cling to hope (that is, in Christ and in his will).
You know, I have no idea completely why this happened the way it did. I do know Noah has an important mission to fulfil on the other side, and that this experience was predetermined before we came down here. I have receieved that confirmation. However, it still doesn't make it any better. There is still this HUGE hole in my heart.
What God is doing, though, is making my heart bigger.... so that the hole doesn't feel so big anymore. This pain is forcing me to open up, to reach out, to seek help, to love so that I can feel more love. That's all i've got going for me now. Luckily, I have found that I have a lot of it. There are a lot of people that love me. It has been so hard to feel until now. Now that my heart is cracked open into two I can finally feel again. It is sad that it took this - but I am sure this is one of the MANY reasons that this has happened to me.
I'll end the story here, for now. Even though I could go on forever.
Love you Noah.
