I Will Go to Him

Dealing with Loss

As the Anniversary of my son's death approaches, I find it hard to believe that it's already been a year. No one can prepare you for the loss of a child. It never occurs to you that such a thing could happen. You know that it happens, you hear about it from time to time, but it's a tragedy that other people have to endure, and you can't imagine it actually happening to you. That was where I was until March 25th, 2023.

I had everything prepared. Bassinet set up, piles of diapers purchased, newborn clothes washed and in the drawer, car seat cleaned and ready to go. Our son Prosper's due date approached and according to ultrasound, midwife, and his vigorous movements everything was progressing as usual. Labor came on quickly. I waved goodbye to my children as they watched me leave fully expecting me to return with their new brother. By the time I arrived at my midwife's house I was already in transition and ready to push. She grabbed the Doppler to check to see how he was handling labor, but all was quiet. She declared we needed to get him out now, a few pushes later he was out, with the cord so tightly wrapped around his neck that it needed to be cut off to free him. No crying, all was quiet. They looked him over, but he was already gone.

They handed me my baby. He was a perfect, 7lbs 2oz. It looked as if he was just asleep, but no matter what I did he would never wake. It didn't seem real. It had to just be a bad dream. This couldn't really be happening, not to me, this kind of thing happens to other people, not me.

I drifted through the next couple days of dealing with government paperwork, funeral arrangements, and sympathy from friends and family in a tear-filled daze. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I knew in my head that he was reigning with Christ and that God's will is perfect for our good and His glory, but I found my mind continuing to return to the idea that my baby, whom I should be holding in my arms, was cold and alone under the ground.

For days this image tormented me, until finally while lying in bed, staring at the spot where his bassinet used to be, a weight pressed down on my chest so hard I couldn't breathe. I thought I would suffocate and die right there. Not knowing if it could possibly be a blood clot in the lung, we went into the hospital. After tests came back clear they determined that I had an anxiety attack. I was shocked. An anxiety attack is for weak people who can't deal with life, how could that be what is making me feel like death is imminent. I felt foolish but was glad I now knew what it was.

I decided I needed to process things another way, so I began to write. Here is a small excerpt.

The Internal Dialogues of a Greiving Mother

Heart: I tried so hard. I rested, I ate healthy, I took vitamins, went to the chiropractor, and even had an ultrasound. After the horrible labor I had with Isabel while building our house, I tried to be so careful. I wanted to do it right this time, so labor would be easier and my recovery faster. It never occurred to me that I would get a fast labor and quick recovery without the reward of bringing my baby home alive.

Mind: God is sovereign. He is good and just. As terrible of a pregnancy, (the fall I had), and the long difficult labor I had with Isabel, God preserved her. As perfect as everything was with Prosper, God decided He wanted him to be with Him. I have no control over what happened, and I need to trust in His will. God has reasons that we do not understand.

Heart: I want the pain to go away, but I don't know how! Do I force it to the back of my mind? Focus on my children and other duties? Get everything back to normal? Pretend it didn't happen?

Mind: I will never be able to forget, the more I try the more the images spring up to torture me. I need to accept the pain as a step toward healing. Time will eventually dull the pain and it will become another experience that we look back upon with sadness, but no longer the same devastating pain.

Heart: But what if we had done something different?

Mind: There are no alternative futures. This is the reality God has chosen and His will is perfect. Trust in Him. He knows all angles and outcomes and in His infinite wisdom has decided this to be the best way.

Heart: I want to hold him, nurse him, look him over head to toe over and over with wonder at the perfect little boy God had created.

Mind: He is in perfect company with Christ, happier there than he could ever be here in this world of sin. God moved him to the front of the line, so he wouldn't have to suffer through this life's journey to reach Him. The best we could ever give him would be suffering and pain compared to how he feels in Christ's arms. It is selfish to ask for him to be here with me when he has already reached paradise.

Taking the time to write these dialogues that were continually running through my head gave some relief. I'll admit I am able to deal with physical pain a lot better than emotional, since getting in touch with "feelings" is not my strong suit. It took some time but eventually God gave me peace. There is still a scar on my heart that aches when I dwell for too long on his absence. When I think too much about what life would be like with him here. How old he would be. What milestones he would have reached. How his siblings would have loved him.

But now as I look at his little sister in my arms nuzzled in, sleeping soundly, after being born 2 months early, I know that the Lord is good for preserving her. That He must have a purpose for her in His perfect will gives me peace. He showed once again that He is in control and not me when my water broke for no reason at 31 weeks. My 4lb Genevieve was healthy and strong, even though she had come under worse circumstances the Lord's will was for her to survive.

As for Prosper, I will go to him, as was said by king David over the death of his own son.

He said, “While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept, for I said, ‘Who knows whether the Lord will be gracious to me, that the child may live?’ But now he is dead. Why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.”
(2 Samuel 12:22-23)

Mrs. Johnson