raw moments of July 23, 2005... looking back

I will slap a great big warning on this post... It is going to be UNCENSORED AND RAW...

Here we go...

7 years ago...

My baby boy was 3 weeks old on this day and he had been in a morgue awaiting my release from the hospital to have his service.  He was in a cold, dark place without me for 3 weeks!  I know it was just his body there... but that was my baby's body.  He was mine!  I was his mom and he was without me.  

My sister and her husband visited him there while I was in ICU, she cut his hair for me, made molds of his hand and feet, took plenty of pictures, put baby lotion on him... she held him, she did what she knew would be so important to me... and I thank her so much for that.  She did the 'hard' while I was fighting for  my life. Her husband documented these precious things with film and I am forever grateful for everyone who held him in my absence. 

But he was without me. 

The day of his service (I hate the word funeral) - I physically was so weak, and as I write about in my book, the experience of seeing my precious baby for the first time was so overwhelming.  No one should have to see their children in a little white bed... I also hate the word casket!  

As I approached him, life shattered seeing the reality of  my sweet boy without breath.  I thought I wouldn't even touch him before I got there but I couldn't pick him up fast enough when I saw him.  I remember I kept feeling his chest just hoping he would breathe... I wanted so badly to make him okay... 

And as much as I wasn't okay, he was safe in heaven... he was in no pain... his body was in my arms... but he was in the hands of Jesus!

I held him the entire 2 hour viewing... I spoke to him softly... saying things only he, God and I know.  I studied every part of his precious little body, memorizing each little finger, his little cheeks, his little nose... all of it... I prayed God would NEVER EVER let me forget that moment... and I haven't!

I don't remember many  things that were spoken to me,  or everyone who was there... but I have never forgotten those moments with Matthew, Ronnie and Nathan!  

Ronnie gently spoke to me "it is time..."  My heart fell!  He didn't have to tell me what he meant... I knew.  I knew I had to let his daddy place him into his bed and that moment, that very moment was the moment that I  lost it.  I lost what I was clinging on to... my baby... his body... and subconsciously, it was then I knew I had to grab a hold of my faith and look ahead to the day I would hold him again.  I couldn't and didn't do it in my own strength, yet God had His way of holding me, holding us... 

I sat through the service...  I couldn't plan it... I was too sick... I had no idea what was going to happen, who was speaking... but I knew my dad would sing for him.... 'You Are My Sunshine..."  and when the part came "please don't take my SUNSHINE away" I couldn't escape the raw moment that became!  

My SUNSHINE was going... 

As we got into the stupid limousine that would carry us to the cemetery, Matthew's sweet body and his little bed were placed  in between me and his daddy.  I laid my body over the top of the bed as I took the one and only ride with Matthew I would ever have.  COMPLETE devastation and EVERYTHING was so broken in our lives.  SURREAL.  HARD. But I wouldn't have wanted him to ride anywhere else!  I needed to take this ride with him... I didn't want him alone in a car while people followed him.  It was a gift to have this time and we were incredibly grateful to the funeral home staff for taking such care of us and of our sweet boy.  

We get to the cemetery... BLUR!  It was HOT, HUMID and I had no idea where we were, really I didn't! I was escorted to a chair... and I sat down looking at the BIG GIANT HOLE in the ground and wondered if that was where my heart was going to be placed.... AND IT WAS!  Yep, right there in that great big freshly dug hole!  

I sat through the graveside service numb.  All I could do was hold on to my husband and stare at that little white bed and the hole and the HUGE pile of dirt that would cover the hole up.  That's hard.  

And Nathan, 5 years old, would come and just lay his head upon my shoulder... My heart, torn.

Unbearable.

My mother n law read a beautiful letter to Matthew, we released balloons, we prayed.... and then I don't remember what was next... and I don't remember leaving... but I do remember looking back at the little white bed and the pile of dirt...

I am reminded today of how God's grace has carried us the last 7 years... I am reminded that without faith we would have never made it.... and I am reminded that one day I will be reunited with Matthew and I won't ever have to worry about leaving him again!

That brings great comfort to my heart! 

I will say that many times I have sat on the ground and wanted to dig my way to that little white bed... sometimes I still do... and that will probably be something that I always feel because I miss him, I want him back and I just want to hold him again, one more time,  but FOREVER!

In writing this today, I want you all to know I am doing good, just reflecting upon that day knowing so many of you have had that  kind of a day too!  I know it hurts, I know it is raw and that is why I chose today to share my heart... 

If you have ever faced that giant hole and sat in the chair beneath that big tent... I am so sorry.  

I wish you hope and peace and comfort today!

I wish it were different.

All my love and prayers...

Signing off... 

"Matthew's Mama"