The typical evening...we'd sit on the couch till I passed out with his hand on my growing belly. I remember watching tv and snuggling up close with a blanket over me. I could be cold in 80 degree weather he'd always say. It was then, before I drifted off to sleep in his arms that I felt it. The flutterby movement I'd remember for the rest of my life....because it was the last I'd ever feel.
Despite the return of my uneasiness, I kept on keepin' on. Went to church and prayed, went to work and pushed paper, went home and went to bed. For three whole days my gut, rather my heart, told me something wasn't right. I tried to push it aside but no matter what I did, I just knew the other foot was about to fall and there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it.
Finally, fear winning over denial, I called. They made time for me. Were quick and precise and...burdened with the news they would have to give. He was gone. That sweet little thump was nowhere to be found. His little wiggle, the one we'd seen through the ultrasonic eye, had fled on precious little wings. As still as a statue, he slept within me, completely unaware of my brokenness.
But I couldn't break yet! I still had to be mom to my other kids and the man was out of town for work. It was 14 hours before I was home and being held by the only person who could understand; both of us a sobbing mess on the kitchen floor. I didn't understand it then and there are still plenty of times now when I feel as if I was being punished. However, I know in my heart that things, LIFE, happens for a reason. We don't always know what it is, why its happening and most times we loathe the foulness thrust upon us unwittingly.
That foulness, spread it's choking stench over us for another 4 days. During that time, we made preparations to bring home a son we'd never hear cry. We packed bags that didn't including the plush velvety blue blanket or welcome home outfit. We filled out hospital papers that induced us into the world of stillborn birth, while wondering when we'd wake up from the nightmare. We hunkered together when we couldn't stand alone. He was my rock, whether he felt strong or not.
With him at my side, we welcomed into this unpredictable world, an angel no larger than my hand. Who without making a single sound made me fall in love deeper than I ever thought possible. With him...and with his father. I knew from that moment, that no matter what the ugly side of life could throw at us, as it inevitably had and would do again, we could still love, support, cherish and lift up one another to see joy again.
On February, 8th 2007 @ 10:03pm Jacob Lawrence Graham was born, weighing 11.68 ounces and measuring 10.6 inches long. He was so small, Ken doll clothes were big on him, but none the less, we dressed him. The blankets big enough for 8lb babies wrapped around him five times, but we swaddled him anyway. We laid him on our chests, willing him to wake up and hear our heartbeats, but knowing it was his spirit only that heard us now...we held him anyway. We were given 3 precious days with him.
And out of the tragedy, we each saw our futures. Neither existed without the other. We knew then, the powers that be had seen fit to show us our strength and love for one another. We could do anything...together. That was Jacob's purpose you know. To make sure his mommy and daddy were bound by something greater...something unbreakable. And for his sacrifice I am eternally grateful. For the first time in my life, I felt I was where I belonged and God had blessed me with someone to share it with.

This day...it reminds me to be grateful for having been blessed with 3 amazing children and the chance to love unconditionally my husband's children. Together we are a crazy blur of blended family chaos, but for all that we struggle with, I know in my heart that God pulled us together through our sweet Angel Baby Jacob.
Photo by Rich Lockhart |
~~~If you don't see a silver lining...make one~~~
2 comments:
I never fully knew the story until now. This post was heartbreaking, amazing, exhausting and beautiful at the same time. What an incredible journey life can be. If ever the statement at the close of all your blogs rang true, it's in this instance. If you don't see a silver lining, make one. And you and your family have done just that. A blessing in disguise. ((HUGS)) to you.
Thanks Lindsey.
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