But the busy-ness is for good reason. Foremost, we are really getting into crunch time for the big Warrior Wagons fundraiser coming up on April 20th! Josh and I have been busy planning and organizing since the first of the year, and things are really starting to come together. It's so exciting and encouraging to see the support for this project. The more Warrior families who reach out telling us just how much this small gesture has meant to them, makes us know we are doing the right thing. We are so happy to be able to do what we're doing, through the support of so many.
And personally, I've been working on some articles for a magazine out of Iowa, WomenInc Magazine (http://www.womenincmagazine.com/), that is publishing our story in three parts. The fist part that I wrote will be in the April/May issue, the next two in the following issues after that. I am thrilled that Drew's story is being told in a new place. It comforts me that more people will know about my son, will know he existed, and possible learn as much as I did from his life.
And just getting back into the swing of things after almost a month long break took some time these last few weeks. Meal planning, cleaning, trying to get back into my workout routine, reconnecting with friends...just generally getting caught up with life has kept me busy in my "free" time.
But even though my mind and energy has been focused on organizing, writing, and just doing I guess, my heart hasn't forgot what's coming up. What would have been. On April 1st, Easter Sunday this year, Drew would have been four years old.
Four...I just can't imagine it. Molly had just turned four when Drew was diagnosed. When I put that age in context, I just can't believe he'd be that old. What he could be telling me, what we could have been doing together. Watching my friends with children close in age to Drew celebrate four-year-old birthdays this spring has been difficult. But at the same time, it gives me a glimpse of what a 4-year-old Drew may have been like. It lets me imagine for a moment how it could have been...
Last year Drew's birthday really hit me hard. It was probably one of my toughest weeks of that first year. Those pictures of my sweet little newborn Drew, knowing all he'd face, how much he would suffer in his short life. Realizing that from that afternoon on April 1st, 2014, his clock was already ticking, and every day was one day less and I didn't even know it, really broke me.
Last year Drew's birthday really hit me hard. It was probably one of my toughest weeks of that first year. Those pictures of my sweet little newborn Drew, knowing all he'd face, how much he would suffer in his short life. Realizing that from that afternoon on April 1st, 2014, his clock was already ticking, and every day was one day less and I didn't even know it, really broke me.
This year, as his day approaches it's the pregnancy pictures that have caught my attention, that my heart is dwelling on.
It's a special time, when you're pregnant. You have baby all to yourself. You are beginning to get to know them without even realizing it, or at least I didn't. And you are so full of hopes and dreams for this little life that's growing inside of you.
Yet, I'm not one that loved being pregnant. I did not get a thrill watching baby movements across my big belly. I didn't sit and rub or stroke my baby bump constantly. (Honestly I was one that rolled my eyes at those that do). I didn't cherish that time, and now I wish I would have.
Thinking back, I was aware of differences between Molly and Drew even at that stage. Molly was active during the day, but not at all during the night. I could roll over or even get up to go to the bathroom and she'd stay asleep in there. But with Drew, he'd move around for another half hour after I got settled back in.
I couldn't feel Drew move as much from the outside due to where things were situated inside. So I had to pay attention to the inside feelings for movement, which was not the case with Molly. Molly also seemed to have the hiccups all the time on the inside, Drew didn't as much.
I felt so full with Drew. Even after they said he'd dropped in those last weeks, I swore I still felt him all the way up under my ribs (and after he was born and measured 22 inches long, I guess I was right!).
I couldn't feel Drew move as much from the outside due to where things were situated inside. So I had to pay attention to the inside feelings for movement, which was not the case with Molly. Molly also seemed to have the hiccups all the time on the inside, Drew didn't as much.
I felt so full with Drew. Even after they said he'd dropped in those last weeks, I swore I still felt him all the way up under my ribs (and after he was born and measured 22 inches long, I guess I was right!).
I ate a whole pineapple 2 days before Drew was born because a friend told me it would induce labor. It started as kind of a fun experiment, but ended up with me not being able to taste anything for a week and having a couple canker sores. Still not sure if it helped, can two days later be attributed to the pineapple ingestion? But it's a fun story to tell.
That time with Drew when he was on the inside is a period I didn't think as much about until these last few weeks. But those months were also months with him, time to treasure and be thankful for. A time I know many would-be mothers are denied, or for some are cut tragically short. Even if I had to give him back to God far too early, this year I'm so thankful I had him all to myself, literally a part of me, for 9 months.
And I think a part of you feels like they're safe in there, especially if you have already had a child. You think that nothing can hurt them--they can't fall and skin their knee. Or bonk their head on a table corner. No one can disappoint them or hurt their feelings. They can't disobey yet and disappoint you either. It seems like it's a totally innocent and pure time.
Unfortunately, life has taught me how much of an illusion that is. Now I know, something can get to them in there, even as they are safely tucked into their mothers. And with Drew, that "something" probably already had. The something that would hurt him so badly, that would disappoint us and so many, and would eventually kill him--was probably already invading his little still-forming body.
I wish I didn't know that. That I could believe babies are safe in their mothers again. But now I know. I've met too many mothers that also have learned the awful truth. And now you do too.
I remember breathing a sigh of relief after 12 weeks. After 25. After 35. And then that he was born, and it all had worked out with nothing bad happening. As if that was the end of it. "Whew! Gave birth to a healthy baby--done!" I was foolishly breathing a sigh of relief. Little did I know.
That time with Drew when he was on the inside is a period I didn't think as much about until these last few weeks. But those months were also months with him, time to treasure and be thankful for. A time I know many would-be mothers are denied, or for some are cut tragically short. Even if I had to give him back to God far too early, this year I'm so thankful I had him all to myself, literally a part of me, for 9 months.
And I think a part of you feels like they're safe in there, especially if you have already had a child. You think that nothing can hurt them--they can't fall and skin their knee. Or bonk their head on a table corner. No one can disappoint them or hurt their feelings. They can't disobey yet and disappoint you either. It seems like it's a totally innocent and pure time.
Unfortunately, life has taught me how much of an illusion that is. Now I know, something can get to them in there, even as they are safely tucked into their mothers. And with Drew, that "something" probably already had. The something that would hurt him so badly, that would disappoint us and so many, and would eventually kill him--was probably already invading his little still-forming body.
I wish I didn't know that. That I could believe babies are safe in their mothers again. But now I know. I've met too many mothers that also have learned the awful truth. And now you do too.
I remember breathing a sigh of relief after 12 weeks. After 25. After 35. And then that he was born, and it all had worked out with nothing bad happening. As if that was the end of it. "Whew! Gave birth to a healthy baby--done!" I was foolishly breathing a sigh of relief. Little did I know.
I just look at that mother, think back on that naivety, and my heart breaks for what happened to her. The disappointment she'd face, the loss, the grief. Last year I cried for Drew, for all he went through. I cried for the loss of the dream, the loss of what I thought would be mine in that newborn babe. This year I guess I'm grieving for myself. Allowing myself to deal with the feelings I haven't worked out yet, how cruel this all really was not just to Drew, but to our family, to Molly, and to me.
But there is Hope.
And this year, my Drew's birthday is on Easter Sunday, when we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ--the reason for our Hope. The year Drew was in treatment, his last Easter, we were so full of joy, and of hope. We realized the freedom the Cross gave us to live each day without fear of what could happen. Death didn't have a hold on us, the possibility didn't cripple us, because we understood the Cross and the hope it gave us. We lived each day to the fullest, and it was glorious.
This year we have the opportunity to once again embrace that truth, and proclaim it with our lives. Death still does not have a hold on us. Living without Drew is so hard, but it hasn't crippled us. And it's because of the Cross and the hope it gives us. Glory be to God!
And you know? The more I've looked at those "bump" photos, reflected on that special time when Drew really was a part of me, I have decided that maybe we've come full circle. That in a way, Drew's back to being a part of me. Inside me now in a different way, and goes with me everywhere once again. He's back to being all mine. I don't think it's too much of a stretch, and it makes me feel better to think of it this way. He's safe, and this time, it's not an illusion. NOTHING can hurt my baby anymore. He is perfectly secure in my Lord's care now.
So I go into another meaningful day with lots of different emotions. Yes, I will probably cry as I remember that special day Drew and I shared, as together we started his life. And inevitably I'll probably also cry as I remember the day that together, I watched as his life on this earth ended.
But how wonderful it will be to also remember on Sunday that death has no victory. To be reminded why that "something" that got to my precious Drew when he was suppose to be tucked in safe with me, that cancer, surely did not win. Why we can keep doing, keep moving forward, and have real Hope--because Christ lives, and so Drew lives too. Hallelujah!
There's an old Easter Hymn that isn't sung as often as it should be, yet sums all this up so well:
"Because He lives, I can face tomorrow
Because He lives, all fear is gone
Because I know He holds the future
And life is worth the living, just because He lives"
Happy Birthday sweet baby boy. I'll miss you as I remember our special day, but I will keep going. Bring more of our Wagons to kids you would have loved to play with. I will keep telling your story--letting God tell HIS story through us. All because He lives. And I'll smile, thinking how I have you all to myself again, with me in a special way once more. Even with all that has happened to us, it is still so true--life is worth the living, just because He lives!
God Bless you Heidi! And Happy Easter to you and all of your family. And especially little Drew. I hope he gets Easter candy in heaven.
ReplyDelete<3 Such good reminders here. I remember flipping through the calendar when 2018 came and first thinking, oh darn, when Drew's birthday was to fall on Easter, and almost as quickly I changed my mind. No, this is gonna be good for them all! What a special and beautiful way to celebrate both!
ReplyDeleteAnd, lol, the pineapple. It was 2 days after eating it for me, too, btw!! I ate one on Sunday and had Paul on Wednesday, ha! Plus a very "fuzzy" tongue from all that acidity. Shrug, who knows.
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