After Christmas, Mommy?

How do you explain death to a 3 year old and an almost 5 year old? It seems like they have grown acustomed to that word this year. First with the death of their PeePaw in January and now their baby brother.

When we got home from the hospital on Friday we sat them down in front of us and told them we had something we wanted to talk about. They sat next to each other on the ottoman and Sydney put her arm around Brooklyn and they were all ears. I think they thought it was going to be something good and exciting because they had smiles on their faces. It was one of the hardest moments as a parent.
I said, "Something very sad has happened. The baby died". All the color went out of Brooklyn's face and her smile faded. She didn't speak. Sydney said, "Why did the baby die mommy"? I told her I didn't know.

That has been Sydney's question over and over again since Friday. Friday night Brian gave her a bath and she started asking him questions. The door was shut but I could hear their conversation through the door. "Did someone step on the baby daddy?" No he said. "Did the baby break in two?" No he said. "Oh she said. "You know, God" and their was a long pause. "Is always with us". Wow I stood their stunned as tears filled my eyes. In her own 3 year old mind she gets the bigger picture. Thank you Lord.

Last night I was laying in bed with Sydney just about to read her some books when she said, "Mommy will the baby be here after Christmas?" This is something we used to tell the girls when they asked us when the baby would be here. They usually asked on a daily basis and since they don't understand the concept of time, it was easier to use Christmas as a guide. That way they would know when it was getting close.

Last night when she asked me my heart broke. I said, "Honey remember the baby died". She said, "I don't want MY baby to die mommy". The tears flowed like a rushing river and they could not be stopped. She started to cry. This was the first time I had seen her cry over the death of her baby brother. She cried hard. All I could do was hold her and tell her it was going to be ok. That it was ok to cry. I just held her and rocked her in my arms.

This is what pains me the most. I can handle my own sadness, but not the sadness of my children and my husband. I would do anything to take their pain away.

Today as I watched the girls play with each other I turned to Brian and just told him I felt robbed. Robbed of having my little boy play on the floor with his sisters. They were so excited to have a new playmate and that was stolen from them. From us. I know God sees that and understands. I was reminded today that God not only cries along with me, but that He is angry. Angry that my son was stolen. My friend Amy read Psalm 18 over me and it encouraged my soul. This is a chapter that I will read over and over again as I walk through this journey. I encourage you to read it for yourself and I pray that it brings you hope that the Lord will arm you for battle and go before you as your stronghold.

I got a picture today as she read it of Jesus standing in front of me protecting me from the evil one. I heard Him say, "No More". Oh thank you my Savior. May you be glorified through my suffering. Thank you Amy and Krissy for being the hands and feet of Jesus today. You will never know what it meant to me to have you pray over me. My spirit has been renewed.

29 With your help I can advance against a troop;
with my God I can scale a wall.

30 As for God, his way is perfect;
the word of the LORD is flawless.
He is a shield
for all who take refuge in him.

31 For who is God besides the LORD ?
And who is the Rock except our God?