Uriah died when he was two days old. I wonder a lot if it would be any different if he had lived for two weeks or two months. Would it hurt more? Would our sense of loss be even greater than it is? It doesn't seem like that is even possible, but I can't help but wonder. Are the pain and sense of loss somehow proportionate to the amount of time you had with your child and the number of memories you made with him or her? If Uriah had lived for two weeks would we miss him even more than we already do? It seems to me that it might be even harder if he had lived longer.
I certainly wouldn't want this to be any harder for my wife and me, but I would gladly accept it if it meant we could have had more time with Uriah. When I think of and remember how few memories we have of our time with Uriah I feel sad, bewildered, and angry. We were by his side a lot during those precious couple of days, and I'm eternally grateful for that little bit of time we had with him. To be painfully honest though, there's only so much I can remember because the entire time he laid in the NICU bed not moving or making a sound. He didn't cry, fuss, or wiggle around. I had my son for those two days, but really, I didn't. His body was there the entire time, but he wasn't. I got to know what my son looked like - and he was beautiful!! - but I didn't get to know him. I feel like I was robbed. I have no memory of my son crying. I have no memory of my son waving his arms. I have no memory of my son kicking his little legs. I have no memory of my son smiling. I have no memory of my son opening his eyes. Those are all memories that I would have treasured for the rest of my life, but I wasn't even allowed to have those, the most basic of memories that a parent can have of their baby.
One of my Facebook friends connected me with a cousin of hers who had lost his infant son. She thought that us talking to each other might help us both in the healing process. I think she may be right and I'm glad she put us in touch with each other. The father and mother created a blog for their son and on it they talked a lot about his triumphs and struggles in the hospital. They had almost two months with their precious son before he passed away. The first time I looked at their blog I was heartbroken as I read their story and saw the pictures of their son. I looked at it again tonight and, while I was still heartbroken for them, I found I was now feeling jealous of them. They have memories of their son that I would give anything to have of my son. They saw him smile, they heard him cry, they saw him move around, they saw him open his eyes, and more. I know they miss their son as much as I miss mine, but I'm jealous of the memories they have of him. Is that wrong? It feels wrong. Being jealous of other parents certainly won't help the healing process along, that's for sure. I suppose there are many, many parents who are jealous of the two days that we had with our son, which I now completely understand.
I hope I will never forget the precious memories I have of my son. I'm thankful for every single one of them, but there's just soooo few of them. :-(
I'm glad you are sharing your thoughts and feelings.
Those feelings of jealousy and anger are not necessarily wrong. It is what we do with them that can make them wrong. At times, I still feel anger and jealousy about dad being gone when I see other couples together, see other fathers with their children,and have to make decisions I don't want to make on my own. God has made us to feel deeply.
We must remember to keep it all in focus with who He is and the sacrifice of His son though. Those negative feelings don't last as long as they used to. I'm gradually learning to turn it over to God a little quicker.
The memories would be difficult no matter how long you knew him, but I understand your desire for "just a bit longer to really get to know him". Even if you had had him for two months, it would be easy to be jealous of someone else who had their child for three or four months. I ache for you and Hannah, Phebe and Abner.
Love you
Jesse (& Hannah) I could share so much here on these thoughts - cuz we have been there. I've told Hannah, I've been jealous AND thankful for you - you had Uriah longer than we did Angela - you have tons of pictures and mementos. I do not remember her warm body. That is why it was a gift to share Uriah with you. But too, I never saw Angela open her eyes - I wonder what color they were. Would she have had dimples when she smiled like two of our other children. But . . . then Uriah and Angela knew no pain - but we sure do.
I am not sure if you can measure the pain, because where you are right now, is the most painful for YOU. It would have hurt two weeks, two months or two years from now. When we lost our 16 year old son, we have a lot of precious memories we hang on to of him being here, the pictures, his voice recording that is still on our phone, but it was so hard too . . . because there are things we want to erase too.
This is where faith steps in. We can be angry at the circumstances, but God never intended for us to have it this way. He weeps with us - He understands the death of a Son.
It was good to read your words today, Jesse. Still praying for you all. ~ Loni