Every
year on this day I post something on Facebook about my first son Jace,
something short and sweet like “this day nine years ago little Jace left us to
be in a better place and we love him and miss him so much” etc. Well, this year
I can’t do it. This year I’m tired of feeling like I always say or do the “right”
thing when it comes to losing my son even when it isn’t what I’m really
thinking or feeling. I’m tired of feeling fake. I’m tired of pretending. I
think I’m just tired. The reality of it is that this day nine years ago was one
of the worst days of my life. No, let’s be real. It WAS LITERALLY the WORST day
of my life. This day nine years ago I watched in horror as my baby gasped for
air, and as he struggled to take his last breath his body went limp in my arms
and he was just…gone. Just like that. Gone. And with him died all the hopes and
dreams I had built up for his future. With him died my dreams as his mother.
With him died a little bit of my faith, a little bit of my heart, a little bit
of my joy, and all of my idealism. For better or worse, I changed that day. I
looked into the eyes of my husband and I was no longer the person he had
married. Something had been taken from me and I would never get it back.
Watching Jace die was the most terrible moment I’ve ever experienced, and it
would be a lie to say that, nine years later, I’ve completely recovered. Anyone
who has ever gone through something traumatic…the loss of a child or a loved
one, the loss of a marriage through divorce, betrayal, abuse, neglect, etc. knows that when you
go through something that devastating it changes you irreversibly…you never get
over it completely, you never go back to being the “old you.” So there’s the
reality of it all. When I think about Jace now it’s hard for me to even
remember what he looked like. His memory is fading with the passing years, the
sad reality of anyone who has lost someone they love.
Some days I still like to
play “what ifs.” “What if” he had been healthy, “what if” I had a nine year old
little boy running around the house, “what if” I had six little mouths to feed
instead of five. I like to picture the family I “should have” had or life as it
“should have” gone. But as my sweet husband always reminds these, playing “what
ifs” only keeps me from enjoying the realities of the life I actually have. Of
looking at the five sweet faces I’m supposed to be mama to here on earth and
cherishing them. Of using the loss of my one son to give me the ability to be a
MUCH better mom to the five remaining children I have here. Here’s the reality
of it: I wasn’t supposed to raise Jace to be a man. I wasn’t supposed to see
him running around with my other five kids. I wasn’t meant to mother him longer
than the short three months he had here. God’s plan for my life is bigger than
what I make of it…greater than what I have planned for it...and sweeter than
what I could ever have dreamed for it.
As harsh as Jace’s death was and still
is for me sometimes, I can’t help but notice that losing him woke me up. I woke
up from a false reality. I woke up from my own dreamland. I woke up from a
fantasy life I had built for myself. When I look in my children’s eyes I see
Jace. When I kiss their sweet cheeks I feel Jace. When I have a terrible day
and question being a mom, I remember Jace. “Would I take it all back?” I’ve had
people ask me. The honest answer is, of course I would take it all back. Of
course I wish Jace never died. Of course I wish he was still alive. Of course I
wish the only tangible part of him I have left isn’t his gravestone. Of course!
But I can’t take it back. I can’t change it. I can’t “unwish” it or “undo” it
because this is real life. It can be horrible and amazing all at the same time
because we go through things that hurt so terribly and then experience things
that bring such joy. On a good day I can focus on all the beautiful blessings
God has given me. And yes, I have really bad days where it’s hard to see past
all the crud and the loss is too much for me to handle. Losing Jace keeps me
humble…it reminds me of my humanity, of my brokenness, and of my need for
Someone greater than I am to pull me out of my pit of despair, to give me hope,
to give me life, to give me purpose.
Since
losing Jace I feel like I’ve been in a constant fluctuating state of being mad
at God and yet realizing my complete need for Him. I know He loves me despite
my doubts, my fears, my anger, and my hurt. How do I know? How can I hold onto
Him when He put me through hell and back losing my child? Because I look into
five pairs of beautiful little eyes and I know. I look at my incredible, faithful
husband and I know. I look at myself in the mirror and think back to who I once
was and I know. “I know the plan I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans for
good and not for evil. Plans to give you a future and a hope.” That’s what my
Lord has done for me. He has given me the promise of a future in the five
beautiful children I have on earth and the hope of a heaven where I can once
again see my little Jace, healed, whole, and happy before the face of a God who
loves me and my little ones more than I could ever fathom.
