Sunday, March 16, 2014

A Baby Changes Everything

"A Baby Changes Everything”.  Most people consider it to be a Christmas song.  For me, it belongs to St. Patrick’s Day…

Over the course of the past few weeks, I have watched the videos of Jacob’s “gotcha day” and ensuing homecoming several times.  When I reflect on those videos, three things in particular stand out in my mind:  Jacob’s celestial laughter, my wife repeating the words “he’s just a baby” over and over, and the surreal green hue of the homecoming pictures.

Jacob’s perfect laugh needs little explanation.  I have never heard, nor do I expect to ever hear something more wonderful than Jacob’s laughter.  He filled our hotel room with that laughter the night of his gotcha day, and he continued to fill our lives with those heart-warming giggles nearly every day until he left us.

As for the “baby” comments—we have video of the first time that we Skyped our children from China and introduced them to their new little brother.  Jacob was five at the time, and our other children were startled by how small he was.  They were also surprised by his demeanor which was that of someone several years younger.  In both size and development, Jacob appeared to be about two years old at the time.  In trying to explain the situation to our other children, my wife kept repeating the words to them, “Guys, he’s just a baby.  He’s just a baby.”

Two weeks later, we arrived home with our sweet Jacob and his siblings had the opportunity to meet him in person for the first time.  Emily collapsed with emotion when she first saw Cubby.  The other children fell instantly in love with him.  In my mind, the videos of the children playing in the back yard with Cub always seem to go in slow motion.  There also seems to be a strange Hollywood-like green filter over the camera—something to create a “flash-back” effect.  Interestingly, when I look at the actual photos of that homecoming day, the green hue is really there.  Where did it come from?  It was St. Patrick’s Day and everything other than Jacob was washed in shades of green.

And so it was that on that St. Patrick’s Day three years ago that “a baby changed everything”.  He brought joy and laughter into our family beyond anything that we had previously known.  He helped us to see the world in new and beautiful ways.  He helped us love each other a little more and even accept ourselves just a little better.  We had to baby proof our home again and find creative ways to keep doors and windows closed and locked.  However, our hearts were pried wide open to let in light and love and laughter that changed our home into a heaven on earth. 

I wish the story ended there, but it doesn’t.  Three months ago our sweet Jacob left us. He was the baby of the family and so pure and innocent that the only words that seem to accurately reflect his demeanor would be “angelic” and “baby-like”.  Now he really is our “angel baby”, and his departure has left a void in our hearts and our family that is truly indescribable.  The darkness and pain that was left in the wake of Jacob’s death has been numbing at best and crushing more often than not.  Just like his arrival, Jacob’s departure was a defining moment for our family.   We lost our baby and the loss of a baby changes everything.

I am pleased to say that the story doesn’t end there either, though.  A little over two thousand years ago, another man welcomed his adopted son into his family and held him lovingly in his arms for the first time.  That baby also brought love and light with Him—love and light that would eventually fill the world.  And that baby brought something else with Him.  That baby brought life—immortality and eternal life—gifts that He contained within himself.  However, that baby wouldn’t be able to give those gifts to the world until after His Heavenly Father, the most powerful being in the universe, sat helplessly by and watched as His Son slipped from life into death.  “For God so loved the world…”

When the Savior suffered and died for us, He not only overcame sin (something that Cubby had not been stained with)—He also broke the bonds of death.  He made it possible for Jacob’s spirit to be reunited with his body in a resurrected form.  He made it possible for me to someday hold my son in my arms once again and bask in the sound of his glorious laughter. 

The Savior’s Atonement also made it possible for us to be to be together forever as a family, and that knowledge is the only thing that gets me through some days.  I desperately want to be with my son again in the eternities, and God’s Only Begotten Son made that possible for me.  Jacob’s death brought indescribable darkness into our lives, but the Light of the World has helped us to survive that darkness.  I have also felt the strength of His love and mercy as they supported me through some of my most devastating hours.

Three years ago tomorrow we brought our sweet Jacob home for the first time.  Three months ago yesterday we held our baby boy as life slipped away from his body.  At the meridian of time, the Savior of the World was born in a lowly stable, destined to break the bonds of death for all mankind.  Yes, a “baby changes everything”.

My whole life has turned around
I was lost but now I'm found
A baby changes everything, yeah
A baby changes everything
(From the song “A Baby Changes Everything” by Craig Wiseman and Tim Nichols)

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Scars

Jacob's Resting Place
The week before Jacob’s stroke, I found out that I would need extensive surgery. The surgery would be very risky and required that I have a team of top surgeons.  With Jacob’s passing and the need to coordinate several surgeons’ schedules, the operation was scheduled for late January.  With blessings from the Lord, and competent and skilled surgeons, the surgery was successful and we are grateful to have it behind us.

As I lay in bed recovering from the surgery, I have a lot of time to think.  If I am honest with myself, the majority of those thoughts are of my Jacob and the pain that I feel at his passing.  The pain associated with the new twelve inch abdominal incision pales in comparison to the open and raw wounds of my broken and shattered heart.

Coming home from my two week post-op visit, I asked my husband to stop by the cemetery.  Before my surgery, I had visited the resting place of my sweet Jacob every day.   This was my first visit to his grave following my surgery.  This was also my first visit to his grave since the snow that had fallen on the day of his funeral had melted away.   The grass that was once beneath the snow was now visible again and bore the scars of the ground being opened and closed to bury our treasure.  I could now see the outline of Jacob’s once opened grave and the bulge in the ground where our treasure box now lies.  I was not prepared for my emotional reaction.  I fell apart.  The obviously pieced-together grass intensified the painful reminder that Jacob’s little body was so close yet still out of my reach.  The ground scars mimicked those gashing scars left on my heart from my little boy’s passing.  It was painfully obvious that my physical scars were going to heal immeasurably faster than my emotional scars.

I am familiar with surgeries and scars.  My abdomen alone bears the scars from eleven surgeries.  These scars have bothered me and made me self conscious.  Most of these surgery scars are related to my role as a mother.  Some scars represent the precious and immeasurable gift of a little life, while others represent only heartache and the loss of yet another little child that we will not be blessed to raise in this life. Some scars have healed quickly while others necessitated many weeks in the hospital and months of healing.   My precious husband has always been so sweet about my scars, acknowledging his gratitude for my sacrifices as we put our family together.   I am deeply grateful for his appreciation for my sacrifices to be a mother, but a woman likes to feel attractive and beautiful and it is difficult to do so when past injuries are so obvious. 

However, a short while ago I heard a quote that changed how I viewed my scars, “Never be ashamed of the scars that life has left you with.  A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed, you endured the pain, and God has healed you.”  This simple truth reminded me of all that my husband and I had learned during the difficult and scarring times in our lives.  We had grown closer together as a couple, closer to the Lord, closer to our family and friends and learned lessons that could only be learned through the healing of these scars, both physical and emotional.

Recently, I found another quote and although I have been unable to identify the individual who deserves credit for the quote, I find the statement simple and profound. “Look for someone’s scars and there you will find their purpose.”  How true this seems to be for me.  One can look at my scars, both physical and emotional and you will find my purpose.  I am a mother.  My purpose is to love.  I believe with my whole heart that my mission on earth is to be the best wife and mother that I can be.  Although I make countless mistakes in my endeavors, my entire life is dedicated to my pursuits in these roles.  It consumes my mind, body, and heart.

However, this quote has much deeper meaning.  As I try to heal from the physical and emotional scars of motherhood, I could not do so without my Savior.  As I look to the scars in His hands and feet, I find His purpose.  Because He bears those scars, He knows how to heal mine.  He knows how to carry me when I cannot walk.  He knows how to heal my broken and shattered heart, because he bears the weight of my emotional scars.  While I bear the physical scars of giving my children earthly life, my Savior bears the scars of giving them eternal life.  Because of His scars, I am able to heal.  Because of His scars, one day the scarred ground above my precious buried treasure will open and my Jacob will emerge whole and healthy.  Because of His scars, I can be with Jacob and my entire family forever.

I believe that everyone who walks this earth has scars.  Some are physical and obvious, but most are deep emotional and spiritual scars.  We experience pain, loss, sorrow, heartache, and betrayal.  We are scarred as we suffer, learn and grow.  We are scarred as we love deeply and unconditionally.  The miracle occurs when we allow the scars of the Master Physician to bind up our wounds, help us through our pain and ultimately heal us.  The scars left from this healing process are precious.  I am grateful that they stay and do not disappear.  They serve as a constant reminder of Christ’s purpose and the immeasurable love that He has for you and me.  How grateful I am for my Savior’s scars.  

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Mother's Memories (Given at Jacob's Funeral on Dec. 19, 2013)

As you all know, I take my responsibilities as a mother very seriously. My family is my life and my children are my world. If there is something that my child needs, I like to be the one to fill that need. So today, my sweet baby needs thoughts to be shared at his funeral. I feel like this is the last thing that I can do for my son in this life and so I have asked the Lord to help me with this, as my grief is overwhelming. I pray that the Spirit will be with me so that I may calmly share my thoughts and feelings.

As you have taken time today to come celebrate the life of our treasured son, and because it is Christmas, I wish to give you a gift. It is a sacred gift to me and the most precious that I have to offer. I wish to tell you more about Jacob in hopes that your life may be edified as mine has been.

I wish to entitle my thoughts today, “Everything Important I Ever Learned, I Learned from Jacob.” In sharing these thoughts, I will share personal stories of my sweet son and hope that treasured memories of mine will bring joy to your heart as well.

The first lesson that I learned from my Cub was to love unconditionally and to create love where there isn’t any . Most everyone who knows Jacob has been the recipient of many hugs and kisses. Every time our doorbell would ring, our visitor would be welcomed to our home with a hug from Jacob. Visitors were often people that Jacob did not know personally. Some were his siblings’ friends, some were friends from church and others were working for UPS, simply delivering mail to our home. It didn’t matter that Jacob didn’t know the UPS man; the UPS man was given a tender embrace before he was sent on his way after delivering a package.

This past Halloween, I watched my little boy as he offered every student who passed by in the Halloween parade a high five. It didn’t matter to him that sometimes the student did not want to participate in the high five. It mattered to him that he had offered it.

I learned from Jacob that I must show my love at every opportunity . Jacob did not take his love for his family members for granted. Every time I walked through the garage door into the house, Jacob ran to me and threw his arms around my legs yelling “mom!” Sometimes, I had only walked out to empty the garbage or get the mail. But Jacob saw that two minute separation, followed by reunion, as something to be celebrated and appreciated.

Whenever Jacob saw James and I hugging, he would run over and throw his arms up to us. James and I would reach down and grab his arms and lift him up to us so that we could all share in a group hug. He just couldn’t stand seeing other people give love and he not be a part of it.

When I would put Jacob and Michael out the door in the morning to get on the bus, Cubby would turn around; pucker his lips and point at them. He wouldn’t leave for the bus until I had kissed his little lips.

Because of Jacob’s ability to offer unconditional love, he was a master at comforting those that stand in need to comfort . If Jacob saw someone who was sad, he would quickly try to make them feel better. He would start with a hug, then a kiss. He would rub their face with his little hand, and look deep into their eyes and ask “you ok?” Sometimes if he encountered someone who was crying, his empathy would get the best of him and he would begin to cry too…not having any idea why he was crying.

I learned the importance of forgiving quickly from Jacob. Jacob was absolutely unable to hold a grudge against anyone or stay angry at someone. I remember a day, several months ago, where Michael became upset that Jacob’s iPad was charged and his was not. As jealousy raged, Jacob was hit by the iPad and now needed many stitches in his eyebrow. Little Jacob was hurt and began to scold Michael for injuring him. I told Michael he needed to apologize to Jacob. Michael weakly gave the sign for “sorry” and started to cry. Jacob immediately forgot his injury and started to hug and kiss Michael and tell him that it was alright.

Jacob was a master at serving others. Every night when James would walk through the door after work, Jacob would first throw his arms around his legs and yell “Baba.” He would then pick up James’ slippers and bring them to James and place them right in front of his feet. If James walked away from the slippers without putting them on, Jacob would pick the slippers back up and place them, again, right in front of where James was standing. This would continue until James had put on the slippers.

For the past few months we have been teaching Jacob and Michael to shower themselves. I would sit at the side of the shower and give physical and verbal prompts as they learned to clean themselves. Jacob had become a master at cleaning himself. He would lather the soap on his buff puff and scrub like crazy, including all over his little face, which would then be covered in bubbles. Michael does not appreciate bath time nearly as much as Jacob and would hide in the back of the tub. Each night, Jacob would decide that he needed to help Michael and after he scrubbed himself would turn to Michael and start scrubbing him head to toe. He would then take his head and tilt it back to rinse the shampoo out. It truly reminded me of the Savior washing the disciple’s feet.

Another lesson that I learned from my son is to appreciate the small things in life and not take them for granted. Jacob loved to be warm. When it was time for his bath every night, Jacob would put his hand under the water and say “WWWAAAAARRRMMMM.” He would then put his little body under the water and repeat “WWWWAAAARRRMMMM.” He loved when I put his winter coat over the heating vent in the morning before he got on the bus. When I placed the coat on him, he would again smile huge and say, “WWWWAAARRRRMM.”

Jacob loved school and loved his bus ride to school. Each morning I would go into their room and wake Jacob and Michael up. The first word out of Cubby’s mouth was, “bus?” I would tell him them that yes, the bus was coming. Michael, who does NOT like mornings, would yell from under the covers of his bed, “NO bus!” To which Cub would respond, “Yes, bus.” This debate would go on for several minutes until Michael had come to grips with the fact that he would indeed have to get out of bed.

We were always in trouble if there was snow out on the way to the bus. Jacob was not able to walk out to the bus without stopping to appreciate the fluffy white stuff. I would have to follow him out and help him to put down the snow, lift him out of the drifts that came up to his knees and carry him to the bus so that he didn’t get “re-sidetracked.”

A lesson that I was still learning from Jacob, is to be pleased with my accomplishments, no matter how small. For three years, our family has rarely had a dinner where Jacob did not pat his daddy’s arm and say, “Baba, Baba” until he got James’ attention. He would then go around the table getting everyone’s individual attention. When he had made the rounds and called each of us by name, we would all respond, “We’re all watching Cub.” He would then take a hugely exaggerated bite of food and smile. He was so proud of himself for eating and he wanted us to be proud of him as well. And we were. It was also a rare meal where Jacob did not hop up to show us his middle splits or throw both legs back and tuck his feet behind his head. We called it “Pretzel Cub.” He was so proud and we were so impressed.

Jacob loved my harp and would come running whenever I was playing. He would sit on my lap and his little arm would be extended as far as it could go and he could barely reach a few strings. He would sit there plucking the strings for a very long time. In his mind, he was playing a symphony and he was so proud.

I learned the value of laughter from Cub. He had a glorious sense of humor and loved to make people laugh. The more we laughed, the more he smiled and hammed it up. He recently learned to be a “shoulder angel” for the kids. Having watched Studio C’s shoulder’s angel skits, Jacob decided that he was to be a shoulder angel. He and his siblings have spent many hours during the past several months performing shoulder angel skits for us.

Jacob would do spontaneous things that were hilarious. Sometimes we were not sure if he had meant to do them or not. For instance, we took Jacob to Chick-fil-a recently. I opened his chocolate milk and stuck his straw in the top. For some reason, Jacob picked up the bottle of chocolate milk and dumped the entire thing over his head. He looked as surprised as we did! On our next visit there, a young man who works at Chick-fil-a came to our table to bring us our food. He started to smile and said, “Wait a minute, is this the kid who poured chocolate milk all over his head? That was AWESOME!”

Jacob knew that we found him adorable and discovered things that he could do that made us happy and that would get him out of trouble. His latest trick was to say “yeeessss” (in a quiet, drawn-out voice). So we would start asking him questions like, “Are you cute? Are you adorable? Do you love your mommy?” To which he would respond “yeeessss.” Then we would start throwing random questions out like, “Are you naughty? Are you going to be a nuclear physicist? Do you speak fluent French?” To which he would also respond “yeeessss” and when we started to laugh, he would say, “You’re funny!”

Jacob has taught me the importance of loving unconditionally, showing love at every opportunity, comforting those that stand in need of comfort, forgiving quickly, appreciating small things, celebrating my accomplishments, and living life with a smile and a laugh. Jacob also reminded us of the importance of remaining constantly in touch with our Heavenly Father. Jacob was completely faithful in remembering to say his prayers. At each dinner, he would remind us to say the prayer before we had even all taken our seats. He always wanted to be the one to say the prayer and would become upset if someone else said it. So we often had two or three dinner prayers.

As any mom could, I could go on for days with fun stories of my baby. Most people look at Jacob and say that he was limited in what he was able to accomplish and achieve in this life. They think that his Trisomy 21, or Down syndrome, is somehow a deficiency. However, I know differently. Jacob wasn’t deficient in anyway, he wasn’t MISSING anything…his extra chromosome, was an ADDITION. Jacob didn’t need to bother himself with the things of this world that don’t matter. He knew more about charity and about the things that truly matter, the things of God, than most people will ever know. I believe that most of that came with his extra chromosome.

As we have talked as a family over the past three days about Jacob and memories that we have of him, it has become gravely obvious to us that the light is gone in our home. Right now, we have no idea how to rekindle that light. Our hearts are beyond broken and we are in complete anguish. All we know to do is rely on our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.

I will never be able to adequately express my gratitude that I was blessed to be Jacob’s mother. It is a blessing that I feel unworthy of. We have been told by many that we have blessed Jacob’s life but I stand here today to tell you that it was he who blessed ours.

James and I had an experience this past Sunday that will be forever etched in our hearts. Recent imaging and exams had shown that Jacob’s stroke had continued to grow, was entering the brainstem, and that death was eminent. We had called our dear friends and asked them to bring our children to the hospital so that they could say goodbye to their brother. The pain was beyond crushing. It was at that time that two Elders came to Jacob’s room in the ICU and offered us the Sacrament. There, at side of my son’s death bed, I listened to the Sacrament prayers and took the bread and water. I was overcome with a knowledge that my Heavenly Father was aware of my suffering and understood completely. I knew that He too had had to send His perfect Son away and be without Him for a time.

As we send our perfect Jacob off to continue his eternal mission, we are so grateful for the reason that we celebrate Christmas. Because Christ was born, I have hope. Because of His Atonement, I know that I can repent and prove worthy to return to His presence. Because of His Atonement, I can pray that I will feel the comforting peace that comes when we are able to turn over our sorrow and pain to the Lord. Because of His Atonement, I know that one day I will hold the precious and perfect resurrected body of my son. Because of His example, I am blessed with a knowledge of how to love.

As James and I held our little Jacob as he passed, I sang to him. I sang his favorite song, the one that he always asked for at night, “I Am a Child of God.” However, as I sang to my small son, realizing that he would soon be my own little angel, I changed the chorus to reflect the pleading desire of my heart.

Cubby, please...

“Lead me, guide me, walk beside me,
Help me find my way.
Teach me all that I must do
To live with you someday.”