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Six years.
Cody would have been six today.
The first of many birthdays we will have to celebrate without him.
In some ways, today is as bad as I had imagined. In other ways, it's just another day, in an endless stream of painful, lonely days.
Six years ago today, we welcomed our son into this world. Not knowing then that time would be short and precious with Cody. What a miraculous day that was! This very tiny, beautiful, angelic little baby was ours.
If we had known on that day, that we would have only 5 short years with Cody, I would have stolen more hugs and kisses, taken more pictures.
Five years gone in the blink of an eye...
And so we struggled with what to do with today. How do you begin to acknowledge this day...the day that marks the first day we met our son. For it still needs to be remembered and celebrated.
There really are no words.....just empty aching arms...the endless longing to be celebrating with our son today.
Happy birthday, dear Cody. We miss you so much today...and everyday. How we wish you were here. We miss your beautiful smile...your unconditional love...your sweet sounds. We take comfort in knowing that you are celebrating with the angels today...able to actually EAT your birthday cake! One day we WILL celebrate with you again.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE!!!!!!
 
  
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I have spent the past 5 years praying for God to heal Cody's body and rid him of his seizures. To restore him to good health and allow him to live a long and happy life. I've spent the years praying for, EXPECTING, a miracle. Miracles happen, right? I’ve had people e-mail me telling me of their miracles. I’ve read about miracles. I’ve even witnessed miracles. But why did GOD skip Cody. Why not my baby?? Now our time frame for miracles has run out.
Still, we kept praying, expecting a miracle. Never giving up hope, that was our motto. God doesn't bring the bad, he brings the good. But we knew in the back of our minds that some day it might be part of God’s plan for Cody to return home to Him. It’s not too much of a stretch to believe that God’s work with Cody here on earth was completed the day he entered Heaven. He brought people closer to their families, closer to God, Carl and I closer to each other. Lots of people have been touched by one sweet, loving little boy...our Cody. Lots and lots of people. Even though he no longer is with us he will forever live in our hearts.
I feel like I've been living in a rabbit hole for over five years. A deep, dark, scary rabbit hole. As we began to discover exactly how deep that rabbit hole went, we knew Cody was going to need prayer…. lots and lots of prayer. So eventually this website, became a way to stay constantly connected with the prayer warriors out there beating down the gates of heaven for precious little Cody. Over time it has become part of my therapy too.
That same rabbit hole was so deep, so very scary and I felt so alone in it. Deep in the depths of despair, I struggled for over five years. Trying with all my might to crawl out of it with my son in my arms. And now my son is no longer in my arms..no longer in the rabbit hole with me. I am now alone...still in that rabbit hole, just now drowning in my own tears.
When we took Cody home to pass, the hospice doctors and nurses told us what to expect. It’s not easy to sit at home and watch your child die. That week, was horrible, it was heartbreaking. Filled with lots of emotions. Filled with lots of heartache. Our only wish was for Cody to pass away in peace. But no amount of preparation would have made his passing any easier.
I have spent the last couple months in a quiet house, able to do whatever my heart desires. But all I want to do is wake up next to Cody and hold him. All my heart desires is to see him and to hold him again. I seem to have no energy to want or do anything else but that.
I guess you are probably wondering how we manage to pick ourselves off the floor. We cry…. a lot. We’re not made of steel, we’re not half as strong as many have made us out to be. We cry and pray, and yell and pray, and shake our fist at God, it’s OK though… he can take it.
I do take comfort in a few things. First, I know that Jesus is watching over Cody; sitting right next to him and keeping him safe. That he is never alone. The angels that ushered him into heaven now play with him. Second, I know his death was not in vain. He has done what God sent him here to do. He has gone above and beyond. He has managed to do more Godly works in his short 5 years on earth than most people do in 80. Third, he was instantly renewed with his perfect heavenly body. There are no more tears, no more pain and no more sorrow for our baby. He has seen such glorious things; things we can’t even begin to dream of.
We are so grateful for the support of the many people who have shared this journey with is. God bless all of you.
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A few things have conspired for me last week that have really made me rather nervous and anxious. And this has put a kink in our attempts at normalcy. I'm going to share so you can hopefully pray with me and for me.
Last Saturday evening I began to have some upper abdomen discomfort. I blew it off hoping that Sunday morning I would be feeling better. Nope..not the case. I went with three days of pain hoping and praying that it would soon subside. And when Tuesday morning came around I was still having crazy pain and also having panic attacks thinking the worse as to why my belly is still hurting. We ended up in the E.R. Tuesday morning. By Tuesday evening after blood draws, an ultrasound and a CAT Scan I was diagnosed with acute pancreatitis.
I was admitted to the University until Thursday afternoon. During my hospital stay I was on Intravenous fluids with nothing by mouth. And pain relief medication every four hours. Normally excessive alcohol consumption and gallstones are the main reason for pancreatits but in my case it's neither. Although my CAT Scan did show a small pseudocyst, that needs to be followed up with a future scan to determine if it's becoming larger or actually shrinking.
I am now feeling physically better but my anxiety over this new diagnosis is really overwhelming. Would you please pray that things go smoothly, and that this isn't the beginning of a new challenge for our family. Please pray that this acute pancreatitis stays acute and does not become chronic. And that the small cyst found on my pancreas does not become anything more serious.
This experience was truly overwhelming with such heartache and very sad memories of our baby boy. Both Carl and I shared some tears over the many sad memories of Cody's days in the hospital. It was seriously a very scary and very emotional time for the both of us.
Thank you and GOD BLESS!
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It has a way of creeping up out of nowhere and rearing it's ugly head. In my mind I know that most of my anger is unfounded, but it seems I can still find many things to be angry about lately...
Anger towards myself...for not being a perfect mother...for making mistakes. For feeling like I should have done more...much more. What if? What if I had done this instead of that? Was it something I did or didn't do? Was it....my fault? So much guilt...so much anger!!!!!
Anger at those around me...for calling...for not calling...or for just not saying anything at all...for being able to move forward, while I am stuck in the past.
And yes, anger at God...for allowing this all to happen...for not stepping in and saving the day after all my pleading...for not answering my prayers the way I wanted him too. For the unfairness of it all...
I can see how easy it would be to allow myself to drown in it for awhile...to remain in that place. Thankfully, the moments of intense anger are fleeting, and end up overpowered by huge waves of grief, leaving a great empty sadness in it's wake.
I still have absolutely no idea how to live without my baby boy.
I miss him more each day.
And yet time marches on...
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Today marks two months since we lost our precious baby Cody, but it feels like it was just yesterday. We are all so very lost...the reality that Cody is really gone sinks in a bit more each day. I have tried to write this post many times, but my words are all a jumbled mess and it's hard to see through the tears. There is no way to accurately describe what I am feeling...what we are all feeling. "How are you?" is the question we get asked a million times over. How can we ever answer that question? Usually we give the quick "I'm OK" answer. But the truth...the truth is that, no, we are not OK...I can't imagine ever being OK again. Everyday is a huge challenge...everyday there are more reminders, more things that we miss. How can we ever be OK when a huge piece of our hearts have been ripped out and buried deep in the ground? Our lives will never be the same. I for one will never be the same. I will remain broken until I enter heaven and hold my son again in my arms.
Our whole world crumbled in a moment and yet life continues on around us as if nothing has changed. The sun still rises, the birds still sing, plans are still being made. Family reunions for next August are still being arranged. And yet I sit here and wonder if I'll be able to get out of bed tomorrow. Will I be able to get out of bed and put on my "I'm Okay" mask.? The mask that shields my true sadness. The overwhelming heartache that is slowly killing me. Will I be able to go on?!? I have to try...I have five other children that need me..or so I hope they do. Putting on the mask, and pretending to care about nothing...when all that consumes my mind is Cody.
Life goes on.
But for us, life will never be the same. Some might even think that now our lives can get back to "normal". Yes, it was a precarious life, a life that was not envied by others. But I hate our new normal...that this is now our reality. That our little boy, who never held back his unconditional love, ceases to exist here on earth. That those five years would be gone in the blink of an eye...and we'd be left behind in this state of bewilderment, wondering how this could have possibly happened. Why GOD allowed this all to happen.
Yes, life goes on.
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But for us, it will never be as full and as bright as it once was when Cody was with us. I can't even look at his pictures without falling apart. Without wanting to reach in those photos and try to hold him and kiss him.
Despite how simple it now is, leaving the comfort of home is difficult these days. Strange to have nothing to pack up...no appointments, meds, feeds or therapy's to plan around. Strange to be out in public and not have the looks or the questions...no strangers drawn to us by Cody's contagious spirit. This new normal is hard to accept. My heart still stops when I look up at the clock and realize that it was time for his feeding or time for his medications.
I am beginning to understand why other cultures wear mourning clothes, or noticeable items to identify themselves as a bereaved person. The importance of showing others that you have suffered a great loss makes a great deal of sense. Some wear their grief for months...sometimes years. It must make it easier to enter back into society, knowing that there is no need to hide your loss. That everyone knows just with one glance how very fragile you are...that you are a long ways from "normal". And that you can easily identify with others who are also suffering their own losses.
Letting him go...
We had too, there was no other option. Holding him in our arms watching him slipping away. Telling him is was OK...
Then the sudden stillness and silence.
Holding Cody for the last time...and finally, forcing ourselves to let go of his body.
Those moments are so vivid...seared into my memory.
Living without Cody...now a family of seven...and the beginning of many painful firsts.
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