Sunday, October 2, 2016
Happy 7 months in Heaven my sweet boy! I probably say this every time but how on THE world has it been that long? Time seems to be simultaneously crawling by ever so slowly and barreling by like a runaway train with no brakes. Ezra, I dreamed of you last night. I don’t remember having done that before (but it is totally possible). I don’t remember anything about the dream except for your sweet face. Your blue blue eyes. You kinda had that pouty face that happened when we weren’t feeding you fast enough! I miss that face. Who am I kidding? I miss ALL your faces. What a gift that dream was.
As I type this, I am sitting in Sugar’s house. I am sitting here, the very place where you took your last earthly breath. We are back for Dittos. The same thing we were here for in March. My anxiety and trepidation are through the roof. The memories of you are everywhere. Every. Single. Room. Tears fall freely. Stopping them is not really even an option.
When I am in the master bedroom, I remember waking you from your nap. And the realization that we were in big trouble with your still body and discoloration.
When I am in the living room, I remember the paramedics whisking you out the front door on a stretcher or something.
Also, in the living room, is where we sat and told your brother and sisters that you were in Heaven...you did not wake up.
When I am in the front bedroom, I remember Izzy lying in a ball on the floor crying and asking the question “Is he breathing yet Mommy? Mommy, is he ok???”
When I am in the back bedroom, I remember crying the entire first night and checking Israel’s breathing every 10 minutes.
When I am on the porch, I remember the interview with cps.
When I look to the road in front of the house, I remember seeing your Daddy for the first time on March 1st.
But when I am in the kitchen, that’s the hardest one. That’s where I remember doing CPR on your sweet body while talking to the 911 operator. The kitchen is where I breathed for you, prayed for you, and watched all your siblings enter into a nightmare. The kitchen is where I saw the paramedics cut off your onesie as they worked on you.
The triggers are everywhere. They hit me from out of nowhere. Hard, fast, intense.
But for you, my boy, I will not allow myself to stay there. For you, I will look past the memories of that ONE day. I will force my brain to remember ALL the other memories you have made here.
When I am in the master bedroom, I will remember changing your diaper 100’s of times. I will remember nursing you. I will remember tickling you there and your huge grin!
When I am in the living room, I will remember you learning how to pull up, throwing the toys everywhere, and chasing your brother with the plastic kid baseball bat laughing hysterically!
When I am in the front bedroom, I will remember bath times, your love for the water, and you trying to escape every time I tried to dress you!
When I am in the back bedroom, I will remember chasing you there. You squealing. I will remember you and Daddy tickling on the back bed.
When I am on the porch, I will remember you playing outside with the trucks and you looking out the window longingly to play in the snow over Christmas.
When I look to the road in the front of the house, I will remember your excitement every time we arrived at Sugar’s house for a visit. I will also remember how great of a traveller you were.
When I am in the kitchen, I will remember so many things. 1. Baths in the sink. 2. Feeding you bananas for the first time and you trying to pull the spoon away from us and feed yourself! 3. You finding the Tupperware drawer and emptying it in record speed. 4. Eating. So much eating.
You are worth every single effort I have to make to remember the BEST times. We miss you every. Single. Day. All of us. You are a blessing. I am so thankful to be your Momma. I love you, sweet boy. Dance with Jesus, Ezra. We are one month closer to you. #MissyouE
I am SO SO thankful Lord that we will see him again. I am so so thankful Jesus made a way. I am so so thankful that you hold our hearts as we heal. I am so so thankful that you hold us up as we take the next step we don’t think we can take.
1 Corinthians 2:9b
“No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him.”