Year 6

>> Monday, April 19, 2010

Towards the end of March every year, I start getting e-mails in my in-box that I should have canceled years ago. Fisher-Price, Gerber, One-Step Ahead, PotteryBarn Kids, and I think a couple others. All lists or sites I entered my information on when I was pregnant with Micah back in the fall of '03... and they are still sending me mommy-propaganda.

Check out these new toys perfect for six year olds! What sports does your six year old love? Has your six year old hit all the developmental markers? Are you ready for kindergarten? We have the perfect gift for your six year old!

I get a pit feeling in my stomach when I see them in my in-box. I never open them. I let them sit there for a few days and then just delete them without ever reading about what my six year old should be playing with or learning or getting ready for. I should really unsubscribe, but I just can't do it. Or maybe I don't want to.
See, I don't have a six year old. I should. I have a son that would have been six. But I don't have a six year old. I think what really keeps me from canceling these e-mails is this feeling that they are one of the few current reminders I have of what life could have been. Should have been.
I look at Lucas and can hardly believe how much he has changed in the last 4years. He is this amazing little boy with his own ideas and thoughts and feelings. And Caden, he is already such a little boy with emerging thoughts and opinions too. I have seen them grow from tiny, defenseless babes to the independent souls they are becoming. But with Micah, I missed that. I only knew him as an infant. A very sick, can't breath on his own, but otherwise perfect baby. And my memories of him are all of him this way. I can remember his piercing eyes and tight grip as Hubby and I stood by his NICU bed. I remember his golden hair that would probably have all fallen out as he got older and his chubby cheeks that might have slimmed away as he became less baby and more little boy.

Who would he be as a six year old? Who would I be as the mother of a six year old who had never known the pain of burying my first born? Would he still look like the spitten-image of his daddy? How might life be different? How might I be different?

I am beyond the acute stage of grief. I don't think about my grief everyday. If I am being totally honest, I don't even really think deeply about Micah everyday. I do see his picture everyday as I walk through my living room. But remembering him has just become part of me. Missing him has become part of me. But there are some days when the longing is overwhelming and the thoughts of what might have been just over take me.
I don't know if that is normal for this stage of grief. Probably is. Year 6. Closer to 10 than 0. I'm not sure if that means anything to you, but to me that feels big. Though I can't really explain why.

I sat in the nursery tonight, nursing and rocking Caden to sleep. He likes to hold my hand and play with my fingernails as he falls asleep. I just leaned over and rested my cheek on his forehead and closed my eyes. As dysfunctional as this may be, as I felt Caden holding my hand I tried to imagine that it was Micah and remember what it felt like for his little fingers to grasp mine six long years ago. I could picture myself there, in the NICU, sitting in a rocking chair holding my first born son. And as I rocked Caden, I just cried- tears of a deep longing for times like this with Micah that I was cheated out of and yet also tears of deep, deep gratitude for these moments that I do have with Caden and did have with Lucas.

I may not know what Micah would be good at or what toys he would like to play with or if he had hit all his developmental markers. I may be left wondering how life up to this point has changed me for the better and the worse. I may, at times, feel all alone in this world and in my grief. But, here in year 6, I do know that God is with me. He is holding me, walking with me, blessing me. He has given me Lucas and Caden and friends who deeply love me and remind me of how far I really have come in these 6 years. One of my dearest friends told me today that it is the times when I worry about losing my hope that prove that I really haven't lost it. That rings so true in my heart. I am sad, heart-broken, incomplete. But that is not the whole picture, thank you Jesus. I will be made whole one glorious day but I can still see the amazing ways I am a blessed woman now on earth. I do feel lonely and like I haven't navigated this grief well at times, but I just keep praying that God would help me reconcile this woman that I am with the idea I have of who I should be.

Year 6. Still longing. Still hurting. Still wondering about so many things. But yet, grateful and hopeful and learning how to be comfortable just being me.

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TwoSquareMeals April 19, 2010 at 11:04 PM  

Here I am, crying at midnight in my living room. Thanks for sharing that photo of those sweet fingers tucked around yours and your honest words about how it is to be six years out from Micah's birth and death. I love you, friend, and the woman God has created you to be. It's a privilege to walk this journey with you and see Him perfecting you (and me). May you know His presence and the hope of Easter even more this week than before. And I am trusting with you that you will get all of these years back with Micah, somehow, in the beauty and goodness of God's new creation. In the meantime, I am hoping and praying for you and so very, very thankful for your beautiful spirit.

Anonymous April 19, 2010 at 11:23 PM  

I love you, friend!

Lisa Marie

Anonymous April 20, 2010 at 8:04 AM  

Praying for you Farrah! I've never lost one beyond 8 weeks gestation so I can't imagine what pain it must be to have them born and pass away. Praying that God gives you all the comfort you need and plenty of friends to hold and hug. Love you!!!

Catherine April 20, 2010 at 9:28 AM  

This made me cry. I love you Farrah. All five of you.

Anonymous April 22, 2010 at 2:20 AM  


lindsay April 22, 2010 at 8:54 AM  

A very touching blog, farrah. Brought tears to my eyes. You are a strong woman. It is reassuring to know that God is with us always and feels what we feel. You will one day get to be with Micah again. And you are so blessed to have Lucas and Caden. They are so precious! God bless! Lindsay

Anonymous April 23, 2010 at 11:06 PM  

I am reaching out my arms to you with hugs... as a mother of 2 who hasn't lost even one, I can't imagine your pain. Your honesty and realness brought tears to my eyes, but even moreso to hear you say that God is with you now and always. He loves you, and He chose you to be Micah's mother. You will see him again... and until then, love to you and those beautiful boys!

Just Me April 24, 2010 at 2:42 PM  

I wish I could eloquently say even part of what I would like too- but I am afraid it would end up all wrong.

Thank you for sharing him with me- he, just like C and L, is super handsome. Micah may not have had long here but he is in a lot of hearts.

I am so sorry for your loss- as always.

Just Me April 24, 2010 at 2:42 PM  
This comment has been removed by the author.
Just Me April 24, 2010 at 2:44 PM  

I wanted to add something else: there is no expiration date on grief. It is what it is, sometimes more acute than others, sometimes very dull. Please do not feel like just because a certain number of years have passed you need to feel a certain way.

Christa April 26, 2010 at 8:46 PM  

This brought tears to my eyes. It's amazing how strong you are to recognize that you are still blessed. That picture is absolutely amazing.

Melinda May 4, 2010 at 10:56 AM  

Your posts about Micah always move me to tears. I always think of you and Micah at Easter. You are such a beautiful soul and loving mother. I know that one day you will be reunited with your precious son, and you'll have eternity to hold him close to you.


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