December 10th

Grief comes in like the waves. Sometimes it’s a dull ache that just lingers along the shore line. Other times it comes crashing in and knocks you off your feet. Today has been a rollercoaster of waves crashing into my heart. I attempted to sleep in our bed with Matthew but my night was filled with flashbacks and horrendous nightmares. Then as the sun began to rise I fell asleep finally into a deep calming sleep. I had this sweet dream of Koa James running and laughing with a beautiful painted sky behind him. Then the dream faded and suddenly I was standing in this beautiful field that overlooked hills and a beautiful pond in the distance. My girls were running around as Matthew sat on a picnic blanket. Then the dream panned to show our whole family and I was holding a little baby.

I didn’t know what this meant, but it felt heavy until I stood today at the cemetery that God had led me to pick. I stood in the field looking down the hill where there were no gravestones but just a gorgeous view of trees on a hillside and a pond in the distance. Normally I think people would be crying as they stood picking their plot to burry their son, but I was washed over with peace. That image from my dream flashed before me as the wind blew against my skin. It was like God’s sweet whisper that this place would not just hold sorrow but the promise of a beautiful future. I whispered praise and told Koa how deeply I missed him. The sorrow wasn’t gone, but I felt some weight lifted as God comforted my soul.

After confirming the spot, we then had to drive to the funeral home to sign papers and the death certificate. I sat looking at the building as my husband protectively went inside so I could remain in the car. Why did this building seem way more daunting to be in front of? Knowing my sweet baby’s body was lying inside made it hard to breath. Every part of me wanted to run inside and scoop his body up. Although I knew I couldn’t. I knew he was gone, but I so longed for him to be home again in my arms. Day two without Koa was filled with distractions but we were also beginning to truly plan for his grave side funeral and his celebration of life.

No one prepares you with how to bury your son or how to truly celebrate such a beautiful life. Though I wish I had more time with Koa, I was reminded by the constant videos that now are my entire instagram feed that so many never even get 12 days with their babies. I at least have videos of his sweet dinosaur growling snores and his many faces. I even got to feel him squeeze my hand, and I got to listen to his beautiful heart beat. I got to know him and make memories with him. I got to hold him tightly and sing to him. My darling Koa you have changed me in ways I will never forget. You’ve taught how to truly stand in my faith without questioning the faithfulness of my God.

People have often told me that it’s okay to be angry or angry with God, but that has never been an emotion for me. I have never felt angry towards God or asked him why he would do this. I have cried out in surrender giving Him Koa multiple times because ultimately only God knew the amount of days we have. God formed him in my womb and knew the impact he would have on this world in only 12 short days. He knew how He would use me and my love for writing to be able to touch numerous lives. God is good even in the darkness. It doesn’t mean I have to love or even agree with what He had plan for Koa’s life. I will always wish there was a different outcome. I will always ask what if I refused to do certain things in labor, what if I didn’t do a home birth, what if I didn’t pass on the extra ultrasound at 34 weeks, what if…. but the what ifs won’t ever bring Koa James back into my arms.

What they will do is slowly destroy me and allow darkness to creep in. I refuse to let the darkness overtake me or my family. I want to honor Koa with the same light he constantly shined. My desire is to be just as big of a fighter and warrior as he was. Koa didn’t have to speak to change lives or even point people to Christ. I strive to be like my darling Koa, to be a light that shines in the darkness. I want to be someone who doesn’t have to speak to shine God’s light in this world.

Today, I was surrounded by my mom and younger siblings. We filled this house with laughter and distraction through games. It was a reminder of the last two weeks and how we filled Koa’s room with joy. It’s easy to remain in the grief and brokenness. It’s hard to choose the joy and find the light. If you know me I’m all about speaking life into others, but right now I am having to grow in my speaking life to myself. I’m having to grow in speaking my emotions and letting others in to grieve alongside me. Overall, God is growing me tremendously through this horrible season. Don’t get me wrong, I hate this season. I hate being apart of this “group” of moms who walk life without a part of their heart. I will forever have a missing part of me. When I woke today, I was reminded that as much as I want Koa here, to have him still here would mean he would still be suffering.

I’ve been blown away by the generosity of people in this hard season. Christmas has always been my favorite season, but this year it seems nearly impossible to try and celebrate without Koa. I know I will include him in all family traditions. His stocking will be hung and the girls will always have gifts from him. I didn’t even have to voice how hard it would be before people instantly jumped in to cover all of Christmas for my girls. Stockings will be filled and my trunk is already full of presents with about 20 more gifts at my in laws and more arriving from amazon every day. Did I mention an entire play set will be arriving soon for my girls? It will be the most magical Christmas for my girls, and they so deserve it. Not to mention, people have raised nearly 20k for us…I have no words but thank you. The weight of my hospital bill and Koa’s has been so heavy to bear. Then you add several thousand dollars for funeral cost and what we will need to make the celebration of life amazing for my sweet baby boy.

I wish there was a guide for this season of life on how to walk this out with two young kiddos and how to grieve while also surrendering to the Lord.I wish their was a guide to the next steps or how to do a funeral and celebration of life. I wish there was some kind of direction on how to continue life while missing someone with every part of your being but also having peace. I feel this tug in my soul of complete peace but also complete anguish. Is this what Jesus felt like when He knelt before God asking for the cup to pass but also having complete peace in knowing God was in control? For tonight I am surrendering the weight of the pain I face at the altar and trusting that not a single moment is wasted in His eyes. May every word that is written and every tear shed not be for nothing but solely for the glory of God.