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Telling Our Children Their Baby Brother was Gone

There has been a lot of pain that Jason and I have experienced through the process of losing our son that there is simply no way to describe. No words will give it justice, no description is sufficient, and unless you have experienced it first hand, which I wouldn't wish upon anyone, I just don't feel like you can fully understand it. Telling our children that their brother had died is one of those experiences.

As we walked into the house after saying goodbye to Kanton one of our sons met us at the door and joyfully asked as he had done so many times in the previous weeks, "How is the baby? Is the baby okay?" My heart sank even more. They all loved their baby brother so much and were so excited for his arrival. Each and every day they would ask me how he was doing, if he was kicking a lot, when I thought I would have him, along with a million other questions about him.... and now we had to tell them that they will never see their baby brother this side of Heaven. How do you do that? What words to you use to break your own child's heart?

I can't even tell you what words we used. It is all a blur. I just remember their sobs. I will never be able to forget that sound. Jason and I just sat with them, let them cry as we cried with them, and we prayed for them.

I can tell you that the pain I have experienced as a bereaved mother is horrific but to watch my children grieve for their sibling has compounded the grief exponentially. 

Because my kids are older this time around I feel like they experienced a whole new level of grief than they ever have before. There was absolutely no protecting them from it and when as a parent all you want to do is protect your child, well, it is just the most helpless feeling imaginable.

I feel like the best visual image I can come up with to describe what this has been like are white water rapids  - except you never had any intention of getting to the rapids part of the river. You are all on this raft floating a beautiful and peaceful river and then all of the sudden you go around a corner and immediately encounter these horrific white water rapids. Without any warning of any kind you drop into them. You are all hanging on for dear life being knocked around from one side to the other and as a parent you are trying to help your children hang on as well so they don't fall into the river but you are having the exact same experience as they are and trying not to fall out of the raft yourself.

We were completely incapable of shielding them on any level from the full magnitude of the grief they are experiencing right now.

All I can say is that I am so thankful that my children have a deep faith in the Lord. He represents the life jackets we are all wearing in the image I described above. I am so thankful that my children have turned to God to help them navigate through their grief as I can't imagine where we would all be without that. There is simply no way Jason and I could get them through this on our own. God continues to faithfully fill our gaps as parents and keep us afloat - especially now when we need Him the most.


Other posts in this series:

My Grief Journey
The Beginning of Loss
The First of the Hard Decisions 
Put One Foot in Front of the Other
Leaving Him Behind
Planning the Funeral
The Funeral

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