Drew's Birth Day...

April 1st, 2014.  The day Drew was born. It was his due date, only 15% of babies are actually born on their due date.  Also April Fool's day.  He was meant to be special.  Going to bed the night before I think I knew he was coming.  After doing it once before, I could feel the changes, instead of "coming soon", it felt imminent.  At 5:30AM my water broke, and we made the call to have a good friend's husband come over to stay with Molly until my family could get here (that family had just had a newborn themselves!), and we left for the hospital.  We stopped at the gas station first for Josh to get snacks and a pop (insert eye roll).  And really things didn't get going very fast until late morning.  I asked for the epidural, again, having done this before!  I think Pitocin was started too, sometime later.   My family was in Austin by lunch time with Molly and we gave them our Culver's order for when I was done.  Only 20 minutes of pushing, and at 1:38PM and we had a son. 

He was 8lbs, and 22 inches long, and looked just like his dad.  His bottom lip was red, his jaw was tucked in like he had an overbite already.  After a day or two it had moved forward and his lip was fine.  The theory was he was sucking on his bottom lip in the womb.  I remember being nervous about it though, how silly.  We named him Drew.  We'd debated about officially naming him Andrew, but calling him Drew.  We decided in the end that if we wanted a Drew, we should just name him Drew!  Which meant "Warrior".  Something I think I researched, but didn't think much about.  It was perfect, just like him.

 

   

I look at these pictures of that sweet baby boy, only 1 day old.  How much we loved him, how many hopes and dreams we had for him.  None included cancer.  Or dying before his 3rd birthday.  Who knows, was the cancer already there on that day?  It very well may have been. Only a few cells maybe, stage one (Neuroblastoma has been found even in utero). We didn't even know we were on borrowed time.  His clock was already ticking away.  What would I have done differently if I would have known?  Held him more.  Not been annoyed at getting up with him at night. Not wished the little years away, because I'd give almost anything to have them back.

All this innocent baby would have to endure.  Knowing now what that little baby had ahead of him, I feel almost sick.  I'll never forget the night of that first antibody infusion in November when he was just beside himself.  Moaning and crying and wriggling in pain. I sang in his ear, rubbed his back, and held him so close, hoping somehow that I could transfer the pain to my own body somehow.  After we got the pain under control for him, I got up and realized how sweaty I had gotten and how tense my muscles were from the experience.  How much worse did my baby feel, who was the one experiencing the pain??  Oh how I wished with all my heart I could have taken that pain for him....And that's just one story.  Chemo sick, Cdiff, transplants, random IV infiltrations that swelled his arm so bad his hand was blue and his skin blistered...why did God bring this perfect baby into the world just to suffer?  He was so full of joy and life, why did he get put through so much?  He didn't deserve it, any of it.  He experienced the worst the world can give, without so much of the good.





It has taken me half the day to finish this.  To get past these thoughts and feelings.  Sift through the lies and accusations and gain God's strength to choose to see past this ugliness.  As I sit here and cry, God reminds me what the truth really is.  All the "why's" He has shown me, and gives me hope of more "why's" that I'll learn.  He reminds me how his suffering was not in vain and all the good that was, and still is, begin accomplished through my Drew.  How great a reward He has given to Drew, and how much honor and glory greeted him when he entered through the gates of Heaven sixty seven days ago. 

I am corrected that he didn't only know suffering.  In fact it seemed like he didn't know it at all, it'd sneak up on him, take him by surprise, and when it was over he'd shake it off and forget about it.  But what he did know was joy and love.  So much joy and love that he didn't only know, but seemed to embody.  Despite these situations and circumstances I talked about above, he did see the beauty in the world.  He loved and trusted like he'd never been hurt.  Taught us all what it means to chose joy even when our circumstances beg us to stay in misery.

All the dreams that died with him on January 19th were just that--dreams.  What I thought I had to look forward to, not what I actually did.  God knew the number of days Drew would live, Psalm 139:16 "in Your book were all written the days that were ordained for me, when as yet there was not one of them". We all will suffer in this life to some extent.  And we all will die.  Like we explain to Molly, we all have a purpose in our lives, a job that God gives us to do.  When we have finished with our work, we go back to our real Home, with our Heavenly Father.  Drew just got his work done sooner than some.  And then he was finished.  And got to leave this world with all its disappointments and pain to be in a place that is literally perfect. 

I try to always share how I feel, but also the truth that I know.  It's like I write out my personal pep talks to myself, share what I'm telling myself that keeps me going.  I've said that sometimes my mind knows things, but my heart takes a while to catch up.  I feel like that starting out this week.  All the ideas and truths I've discovered and shared, I truly believe.  But my heart today is stuck on the pain of missing him.  Stuck on what we could have been doing this week, preparing for a fun-loving three year old boy's birthday party.  When we came back from Disney and started the new year, we didn't know how much longer we'd have with him.  I remember asking Josh if he thought he'd make it until his birthday.  That conversation must have been in the 4 days we were home before I took him into the ER and never brought him home.  We both were doubtful we'd have him here for his birthday.  But neither of us thought we'd have less than 10 days with him.  I'm sure it's better we didn't know.

On good days, which come more often now, I am so hopeful for the future, empowered by our experience, thankful for the time we had, and at peace with where Drew is and Who is watching over him now.  But on sad days, I still am a big sappy mess.  I'm more apprehensive to share these sad day feelings for fear it'll seem like don't actually believe all that I say.  For fear that I'll seem contradicting with my thoughts and feeling.  And that's how it feels to me sometimes too.  The truth is I do believe all I've said, but that doesn't mean I don't wish it could have turned out differently.  Or that all that happened last year didn't hurt, and continues to hurt as we reflect on it.  And that now I just want him back.  Want this to be all a bad dream.  If he could just come down that hall saying, "oh, hi mom!" with one sock on and one sock off like for some reason he always was, I would never ask for anything again.  On these days, just like Jesus did when he felt grief, all I can do is turn to the only One that can make it all better in prayer.  Ask for the strength that has gotten me this far.  The God of Comfort to hold me, and tell me it'll be okay.  And I know that He will do just that, and we will be okay.