A wise reader of this blog left a comment that I like. It goes something like this: the longer you tread water, the more you get used to being in the water. I think this is where I'm at. For most of Jacob's life, I knew I would one day be at this point. Whenever I would express this thought to anyone, the usual response went something like this:
"You never know what doctors will be able to do."
"Look at all the advances they're making in medicine."
"You just need to enjoy one day at a time and not look in the future."
"God can work a miracle and heal his heart."
Well, Jacob's life is a testament to what the medical community can do. I won't go into all the details, because it is a very long story. I have lots of stories - mostly good, a few bad - about the many nurses, doctors and medical support staff that worked so hard to keep him alive and give him the quality of life that he had.
For the most part, I did enjoy each day with Jacob. I don't think I ever took the fact that he was with us for granted. I also knew that any of my children could be taken from me at any time.
So, this leads to the final statement: "God can work a miracle and heal his heart." Okay, get ready to go to deep here. You knew I was going to go here soon.
I have always struggled with calling Jacob's life a miracle. While I acknowledge the amazing events that led to us finding a doctor in Philadelphia that could treat him, his many surgeries and recoveries, and finally, going through two heart transplants at the point of death, I am just uncomfortable calling this a miracle.
Here's why: from the time I was pregnant with Jacob, people would say to me," I am praying for a miracle - I just know that God is going to heal his heart and he is going to be a healthy baby." Well, that didn't happen.
Another time: Jacob is recovering in the ICU after his first surgery. A mother whose baby is on the ECHO machine and not doing well, says to me, "I know why your son is doing so well and mine isn't:. It's because your husband is a minister and there are so many people praying for him."
Another one: I am in ICU in Philly holding Jacob after his first surgery. The baby next to him, a little girl born to very young parents and abandoned after she was born, dies while I am there. The nurses couldn't get me out of there, (Jacob was connected to so many lines), before she died. She died with no family there. A social worker came and held her after she died. I remember wondering, "God, is this really what it's like? Is Jacob doing well because so many people are praying for him, and this little girl isn't ? I don't think You really work this way, but if You do, I'm not sure I want any part of this."
Well, I think I am going to stop here. I have lots more to say, but I need to come up for air. Here is a statement I heard a very wise man at our church in Houston say one night at a prayer meeting:"If someone you love gets on an airplane and survives a plane crash, we say, 'Thank you, God, for saving my loved one.' If that airplane crashes and kills everyone, we don't praise God then." I am really messing this up, but basically, what he was saying was, "If we praise God in the good times, we have to praise Him in the really, really traumatic times."
I just don't know if I can really praise Him for Jacob's death. Do I blame God for it? No, his heart was flawed and we were so fortunate to have him for as long as we did. Do I think God could have performed a miracle? Well, if I thought He could and He chose not to, then I just don't know if I want to have much of a relationship with Him.
Okay, I am starting to drown a little. I need to tread water a bit.
More later,
Karen
Karen, thanks for taking the time to set up this blog and thanks most of all for sharing what are surely some of the most painful memories imaginable. I hope and believe that this will be a healing experience for you and those who read it. You have posed some questions for which we have no answers. Most importantly, all of us who read your blog will hopefully learn how to better understand the grief process. We (Lesa and I) had some Stephen Ministry training in ministering to persons experiencing grief and your account speaks to the very heart of what we learned. As you related so well, many well-intentioned friends and acquaintances have unwittingly said hurtful and troubling things in their attempts to "make things better". Thanks again for sharing.
ReplyDeleteKaren, you don't know me, but I knew Jacob thru my daughter. I have commented a couple of times on his CarePage. He was such an incredible young man. I wanted to tell you how much your writing touches me. You are incredibly honest and forthcoming. I cannot even begin to imagine the grief of losing a child...even if you "knew" it could happen...it still seems like one of the most cruel things a mother can go thru. I struggled with the decision to comment, because no one EVER says the right thing and I know I am no exception to that rule.
ReplyDeleteMy mother was sick and brain damaged for over 9 years before she died. I watched her suffer so much, but we also had a lot of fun and spent a great deal of time together. I can't tell you how many people told me that God "let's everything happen for a reason!" I wanted to scream at them, "You are an idiot! Why would God want my mother to suffer like this?" But of course, I was raised by that polite southern woman, so I smiled and thanked them for caring and tried to make them feel ok about saying something stupid. My opinion is that life happens. God loved my Mama, he didn't want her to suffer. He wouldn't want her life to change so drastically at the age of 56. In giving man free will He also allowed "life" to happen to us. Sometimes life sucks. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. I bet it touches many more people than you realize.
Thank you both for your comments. David, you and Lesa need to come see us this fall at our cabin. Late October is usually peak leaf season around here. Think about it.
ReplyDeleteAnonymous: Love your comment about wanting to make people okay about saying something stupid. You're right, it must be a southern thing. You're also right: sometimes, life just sucks.