Everyone grieves differently, we all have had different experiences leading up to the point of our tragedies, and our personalities are involved as well. For me at this point, grief comes and goes, mostly stays for a day or two and leaves. But right now, at this point, it has stayed for a week, now going on two.
I have been stuck on the "what could have been" again. A couple of weekends ago, John-Michael and I went to our nephew's jiu jitsu tournament. We missed Jaxon. I could picture holding him as we cheered on his cousin. I know JM looked forward to one day teaching his son how to compete in things like this.
I took facebook off of my phone a couple of days ago because babies are everywhere. Milestones are everywhere. Jaxon would be crawling, laughing, waving, and possibly pulling up on things getting ready to start walking. Pregnancies are everywhere!! And pregnancies that are right in sync with Jaxon's pregnancy- so many people I know are due in November. Reminders of what I almost had are everywhere.
July 4th? We were pleasantly distracted by my cousins from Iowa that came to Dallas for a wedding. We got to steal them away for a day and enjoy The Stockyards with them during the 4th. We watched the famous Stockyard cattle drive, and I called it our Texas 4th of July parade. I wanted so bad to be holding Jaxon, showing him all of the Longhorns. We ate some BBQ and talked for a long time about the grief and continuing life after leaving behind something so precious. They lost a baby too and I know they feel the same aching for "what could have been."
It was the end of June when we found out we were having a boy- all of the 4th of July things were on the shelves at that time. The very first thing I bought Jaxon, knowing he was a boy, was an American flag swimsuit. All I can think about this summer is how Jaxon would look wearing that swimsuit.
Last week, we ate dinner at Cheddar's and we were sat right next to this family with a baby boy about Jaxon's age. This sweet daddy was feeding his boy water through a straw, just occupying him really, because they knew he was about to get hungry and demand his mother's attention. The daddy was distracting the baby so the mom could eat her dinner first- totally NOT complaining by the way. His dinner sat on the side, untouched, getting cold. (Something parents love to complain about.) I didn't think JM was paying attention to this, but all of a sudden he said, "I have never wanted a child more than I do now. It's crazy how much this changes. How the desire to have children is intensified now." Yes, intensified, excruciatingly magnified.
I don't like to hear parents complain about being a parent. Imagine that child dying. Which would you rather have? I have no sympathy, complain to someone else please.
Moving to another apartment without Jaxon feels wrong. Last night we emptied our apartment of all the last minute cleaning supplies, boxes, and trash. We took one last look in Jaxon's room. My first reaction was to take a picture. But we decided that we wouldn't. We really don't want to remember this. I don't think God wants us to relive the painful moments over and over again, and that's all a picture would have served us with. We are called to live each moment once, and look forward to what's next. That's why I keep the painful things in "the vault." That day, that sequence of events when Jaxon died, was meant for November 12th and November 13th of 2013. Not today, not tomorrow, and not every Tuesday and Wednesday. Sometimes it is really hard to remember that Jaxon was not created for this world. God never intended for him to be in this world, to grow up here, to know us the way we long to know him.