Now what?
“ He heals the brokenhearted, and binds up their wounds." - Psalm 147:3
Something I never thought about when hearing of a miscarriage or infant loss, was the nursery. You spend so much time and effort in creating a space for you to spend hours awake soothing and feeding your soon to be newborn.
We incorporated some personal touches to Wesson’s room. My dad hand made a sign to go over his crib, with bible verses and a special note from him on the back. We hung up the cowboy hate of my late Aunt Karen, as well as an old hat of Ry’s for her bubba to wear at a later time.
We had the diapers, wipes, breastfeeding cart, and diaper genie in place. The clothes were washed and separated by size…
…but then he never came home to us. For over two years his room was left how it was set up with the door mostly shut.
I refused to go in there on almost every occasion. There had been times during his NICU stay that I would weep on the floor when no one else was around and beg God to heal our baby. I would beg for an outcome I tragically knew would most likely not be part of our story.
Then I went through a time when I felt okay being in there. I felt okay passing the room with the door open, that was until our first failed IVF transfer. I again felt hopeless. I knew God had a purpose for all of this pain, but my heart so longed for a baby boy. Our first embryo transferred was a boy, completely normal, not even a carrier of EB. Why us?
After starting to heal from that, I wanted the door shut. I dreaded burying Wes. I put this off so long, the funeral home called us asking for his ashes to be picked up. Jake, I thank God daily for him, went to get his ashes and put him in his room. How sick, the only time my son got to be “in” his room was when he was cremated. Thank God that I know that is NOT him, only his remains, our baby boy is with Jesus. However, this thought made me so beyond nauseous the door remained closed.
After our second failed transfer, of yet another boy embryo, my therapist and I decided I needed to make some visual changes to help heal my heart. I came home told Jake I was ready to bury Wes and asked if we could take down his nursery. Jake and I both process and grieve differently, he has been ready to do this for a while, but waited until I gave the green light.
That next week in June 2023, we did both. Jake moved Wes’ ashes to a place I did not know, and the cleaning began. Many tears were shed as I stood in the room, Jake asked, “What part is easiest for you to do? or I can do this all by myself, you tell me.” As much as I wanted to throw my hands up and let him do it, I knew I needed to do this for healing.
The cleaning begin. The tears flowed. I am quick to hold back the tears, put on a strong face and get the job done (not a healthy trait.) This time, I let myself feel all of the feels. We dissembled it all, got rid of some, stored some, and kept some. This picture to the right is all that was left of our Wes on earth.
Once comparing the first picture of his room and belonging to this, it really hit me.
Life is full of so much “stuff.” The sports, money, cars, trips, clothes, the list goes on. At the end of the day, none of that truly matters. I could look at this small pile and think, “This is all that’s left of my son,” or I could thank God for my son’s life and legacy being SO much more than “stuff.” I find myself often times wanting more, wanting to do more, see more, have more, but does any of that truly matter?
Wes, through out his 51 days of life taught every one of us something. Whether it was during his stay in the NICU or now in his heavenly home, his legacy is being carried on. He is the reason our family is closer, the reason we often times see the best in a terrible circumstances, the reason we enjoy the little moments, not just the big ones, the reason we fight daily to find a cure for EB and raise awareness, the list goes on. He is so much more than “stuff,” he left behind a family that is better and following Jesus in a way we have never before.
What is the legacy you want to leave? Do you want yours to be all the “stuff” or an impact, a purpose, love and more.
Reach out to your friends or family who experience child loss, the hurt never stops, but the hope we can have in one day seeing out baby again, that is where the joy is. Praise God for giving us so much more than we deserve, and praise God for Wesson being a small but MIGHTY warrior. Thank you for helping us carry on Wesson’s legacy through Wesson’s Wish. Our boy will never be forgotten.
