Empty Arms...

Today marks 2 weeks - 14 days - since my sweet baby boy Sebastian was born into this world, yet he'd already left. 14 days since I held him. 14 days since I kissed his little head. 14 days since I played with those dear little toes.

And I'm feeling the emptiness now. My arms should hold my baby but all I can grasp for is a fluffy teddybear. They should hold life in the form of small hands and feet and sweet milky breath, but they hold nothing. There is a huge hole where Sebby should be.

And I ache for him.

Funny that this post comes only a few days after I journalled about not adequately grieving. Well I think that train is starting to hit now. Yesterday I had a big time of sadness and loss. I think God listened to my prayer (as silly as it seems) and stepped back just a little to allow me to let the grief wash over me.

Shortly after lunch, it came to the time to take Eli and Lani to a birthday party at the movies. The plan was to go and watch the film with them, then go to the park for cake after, and then we were having dinner with friends last night to celebrate a new job.
But the wave started washing over me and I was suddenly overcome with emotions. Given, I was tired and I feel more emotional when I'm tired, but I just started crying. At first I thought I was crying because I was tired and cranky, but then I realised I was crying because of my boy. I missed him.

My knight in shining armour (my dear husband) stepped in and took the kids to the party - thank God. I was dreading having to take them. Thinking I might just collapse in tears at any time. I knew I needed just a little time to myself.

When he left, I just lay down in my bed and sobbed and sobbed. I let the wave of emotion wash right over me. My heart was aching. My arms felt empty as I grabbed one of his teddies and held it tight. I cried and cried for my baby.

To think that it has been 14 days since I held him is unbearable. How did the time go by so fast? Why does it keep going so darn fast? I just want to hold him. Go back to the day he was born. Although there was no life in his body, it was him. I miss his tiny body, I miss his sweet little button nose, and touching those feet. I am starting to forget the moment already, and that scares the life out of me. I want to burn those moments into my head and memory. How can I ever forget my sweet boy?

6 hours with his body was never EVER enough time to make memories! And it scares me that I could forget it so easily.

Lord, don't let those things leave me, ever!

Early this morning I had a dream about my boy. Most of it was hazy, but I was taking prints with red paint of his dear little feet. I made butterflies with his prints on Greg's shirt just above his heart. I had made a mould of his foot or something and was using that. But I went towards his body to get more prints with his actual feet. As I walked towards his body wrapped in a blanket in a basket or something, I passed another baby in a blanket in a basket, and its eyes blinked. I thought for a minute it was my baby and he was alive! But then as I realised it wasn't Seb, my heart sank. I walked further and my Sebby's body was in his basket and he was cold and hard. I picked him up and hugged him so tight. It felt so good to have him in my arms, even if I knew it was just his body.

And so I woke in tears, feeling a huge emptiness in my arms. And I cried and ached. I just want to go back to 14 days ago when I held him. I want to smell his sweet musty smell of vernex and birth. I want to kiss his little head and look over his sweet hair. I want to touch his little nose and sweet tiny perfect lips. I want to hold his feet against my finger again. I want to play with those little toes of perfection. I long for my baby.

And so I am finally feeling the grief that had eluded me. It feels somewhat good to be feeling, yet the aching and long is so very lonely and heart-breaking.

Yesterday after my 'moment', I was reminded of the poem 'Footprints in the Sand' - may will know it - a story of faith on God.
Well I think God was reminding me that like in the poem, He is carrying me. He will allow me to feel the grief and the emptiness, but He reminds me that He is holding me up above the real brunt of all-consuming pain.
I am thankful that He is allowing me the moments of pain, but more thankful now that He is holding me from feeling too much of it that it consumes me.

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FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND

One night I dreamed a dream.
I was walking along the beach with my Lord. Across the dark sky flashed scenes from my life. For each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand, one belonging to me and one to my Lord.

When the last scene of my life shot before me I looked back at the footprints in the sand. There was only one set of footprints. I realized that this was at the lowest and saddest times of my life. This always bothered me and I questioned the Lord about my dilemma.

"Lord, You told me when I decided to follow You, You would walk and talk with me all the way. But I'm aware that during the most troublesome times of my life there is only one set of footprints. I just don't understand why, when I need You most, You leave me."

He whispered, "My precious child, I love you and will never leave you, never, ever, during your trials and testings. When you saw only one set of footprints, It was then that I carried you."

Margaret Fishback Powers, 1964

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Psalm 27:5
For in the day of trouble He will keep me safe in His dwelling;
He will hide me in the shelter of His tabernacle and set me high upon a rock.

Psalm 63:7-8
Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings. My soul clings to you. I stay close to you. Your right hand upholds me.