We came home yesterday after a weekend in WI and our last planned event for Henryk’s death. It was very hard coming home. The whole car ride my head swirled. “We can’t go there. He is supposed to be there and he won’t be. He should be there with us and he isn’t. I can’t go back there. He is supposed to be there. He is supposed to be there. He is supposed to be there.” We got home in the evening and quietly unpacked. Lily played by herself. We sat emptily at the table. He’s supposed to be here.
Today was a big day. It was our first day of going back to “normal.” Our first day in over 14 months that didn’t have a significant or full portion dedicated to him and his care. Michael went back to work. I don’t know how to do life anymore. I don’t know how to live without Henryk. This isn’t the way things are meant to be.
All I want to do is sit and stare at pictures but it is just torture. But I don’t want to stop because we now have all the memories of Henryk that we will ever have and if we stop looking at pictures we are afraid we will forget. Then they will be gone.
This is what we are praying: Ephesians 5:18-20. Be filled with the Holy Spirit. Then you will sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, making music to the Lord with your hearts. And you will always give thanks for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Praying for you.
I am praying for you …Mike, Emily and Lily. What a wonderful sermon message by David Mathis.
God bless, Em and Mike…you will find a way, just as you have all along your journey. It was so good to see you and Lily this past weekend!
I’m so sorry to hear about Henryk! He was beautiful…..and that’s exactly what I just told some of the ladies in my bible study…we are getting used to the “new” normal…the world that doesn’t revolve around holding little baby jules and caring for her every need. I will be praying for you guys!!
Emily… if you were my daughter, this is what I would say…
When I lost my mom, (1995) it was the most traumatic experience of my life. No one knows how difficult it is, losing someone that you love so much, until you experience it. The sorrow cannot be explained. There is no way to prepare, regardless of how much time you have. It is a shock to the system that is nearly impossible to recover from. I knew beyond all doubt, after going through it, that death was not part of God’s original plan. That human beings were not designed for this kind of pain.
I also knew that I was sinking. The trauma of watching my mother die slowly over a period of two years sent me into a spiral of depression that I could not crawl out of, regardless of my faith and hope. I tried for two years after her death to manage on my own, but the depression began to affect my marriage, my parenting and my job… when the thought, “my family is better off without me” went through my head one day…two years after my mom died, I finally realized that I needed medical help. I’ve been taking an anti-depressant ever since, and with it, am able to live life around the empty space my mom left. That empty space will always be there… just like Henryk’s. You’ll never forget him, and you’ll always miss him, trust me. And you have to learn to live your life around the empty space. That is the curse of death we must face in this life, and at the same time embrace the hope we have for seeing our loved ones again in eternity. One of the hardest things, and the most joyous things we’ll ever do. I think, that by knowing the pain of death first hand, we can better understand God’s pain and what the darkness without Him really looks like. We can also, then, better realize the reality of His Light and Love and eventually His joy.
Take care Emily… you’ve been through a very serious trauma that no one should have to face… with astonishing grace and faith. But death and darkness is out to devour all of us. Don’t give up the fight. love ya, Lindsey’s MOM.
Hi Emily,
We don’t know each other, but we’re mutual friends of Chad and Monica Geyen. Monica shared your blog last week, and my husband and I have been praying for you.
In December 2011, we were days away from the birth of our first child, our son Maddox. At what was our regularly scheduled 39-week appointment, our midwife couldn’t find his heartbeat. We were devastated, and our hearts ache every day for our loss. I was induced that evening, and Maddox was born the next morning. We didn’t have a chance to hear his cry or see his eyes or feed him for the first time. We held him and prayed over him and loved on him all we could, and on his due date we buried him.
I can relate so much to your “supposed to’s”, and I distinctly remember feeling the same way you do right now. The day we buried him was when my grief really began – there was no more to do to take care of Maddox. I was the mother of a new baby, my baby was supposed to be with me, he was supposed to be getting ready to celebrate his first Christmas. Even now, all the “supposed to’s” are hurt. I can’t write this to you without crying, and I know that for the rest of my life my heart will never be whole because Maddox took a part of it with him to heaven.
When I heard about your loss, I read over your blog and cried and cried for you and your family. We prayed for you. For your husband and your daughter. For your Henryk. For you. Henrky is your little man and he will never leave you. You’ll have good days – days when you almost feel guilty for having fun without your son with you – and you’ll have bad days – days you wish God would just call you home already, too. I pray that you will continue to have the support of caring family and friends, and that above all, you will feel God wrap his arms around you.
There are several Bible verses that have been comforting to me since we lost Maddox 13 months ago. One that I want to share with you is Deuteronomy 33:27a. It says, “The eternal God is your dwelling place, and underneath are the everlasting arms.” The key word here is “underneath”. No matter how low you go, no matter how far down you feel, no matter how sad you are, no matter how dark you feel, God’s arms are UNDERNEATH you, and He will hold you up and walk you through this terrible path He has called you to.
I have kept a blog to share my grief journey. I pray that it will be helpful to you if you choose to read any of it. If you’d like to talk with someone who’s experienced the loss of their baby, even though our stories are different, I would be glad to be there for you.
Sincerely,
Amanda Schulze
http://mommytomaddox.blogspot.com/
Hello,
My name is Courtney, I found your page and just read the whole thing. Your story is very moving, and I feel terrible for your loss and I must say I greatly respect you for all of the decisions you made about your sons life. Those decisions could not have been easy to make I am sure of it! I am only 19, and don’t yet have children yet of my own, but I hope that some day I will love my child enough to make the tough decisions I may have to make for them as you did for your children! Your decisions were so selfless and you both should be very proud of yourselves for bringing such a beautiful baby into the world and making his unfortunately short life the best it could be!
-Courtney
Green Bay, WI
We are praying for you! Our daughter, Isabelle, periodically stops what she’s doing to tell me she’s sad about the baby who died, but glad that he isn’t sick anymore. We feel only a little of the pain you feel, but it reminds us of you and we lift you up.
Amy
Michael and Emily,
You mention live returning to “normal”. When I deal with trauma’s among our law enforcement family, I always tell them life will never be normal again. It is what we call the “new normal”. This new normal will take time to adjust to. Be patient (as hard as that can be some days) and let God walk you into the new normal. Both of you have a strong faith and He will see you through.
Talk about Henryk, look at pictures with Lily, remember and laugh. It is good healing for all of you.
Take care of yourselves – eat right, exercise, get enough sleep. These are all important! Above all, pray! And, as always, know that on the days when you are too hurt, angry, depressed or tired to pray, we have your back and are lifting you up in prayer.