As The Dreaded Day Approaches…

Lincoln's Build-a-Bear "Spots"

Lincoln’s Build-a-Bear “Spots”

When I first began this blog, I was telling our story day by day of our experience at Riley. I had to stop and give myself a break because I just couldn’t handle the emotions of reliving those days as I wrote. It helped at first, but with Jeremy struggling at work with PTSD and me working and also trying to keep our bills paid and everything, it proved to be too much to finish at that time.

But I think I’m finally ready to continue it next month. It feels like an unfinished book that needs an ending. I think it will help me process my grief in the upcoming month. I have to be very careful when I let myself dwell on events of that week, or I will be sinking into a bottomless hole before I know it. The memories cause extreme emotional and physical reactions. Before I know know it, I’m right there back in that little PICU room reliving every moment.

February 21st will be one year since Lincoln left us. Jeremy and I are both taking the entire week off from work. This day weighs heavy on my heart and mind as it approaches. I just can’t believe I haven’t been able to hold and kiss my sweet baby for almost a year. It doesn’t even seem real. His swing still sits over beside the tv. His play pen is still out with his folded little outfits and towels still stacked from the laundry we did the days before he died. I’ve moved a lot of his things just into his nursery because they hurt so much to look at every day. His stroller and car seat. The unopened high chair he never got to use… But those last few things I haven’t had the strength to move yet.

I tried to clean out his play pen but when I came across one of the last outfits I bought him, that I had been so excited to buy, that he never got to wear, I just couldn’t do it. Our grief counselor once told me that we shouldn’t push ourselves to clean and move things we aren’t ready to because you can only do it once. And right now we’re not ready. I don’t know when we will be. And that’s ok.    

Please keep us in prayer my friends as we approach the anniversary of the death of our son. It was truly the worst day of our lives. I actually feel guilty for even saying that because it was also the day that Lincoln was set free from his painful and diseased body, and made whole and new in Christ. So while my mommy heart knows that was truly best for my darling baby, that doesn’t mean that my heart wasn’t shattered that day too. All my hopes and dreams of a toddler running around the house this winter, first days of school, playing football and piano, years of birthdays and holidays and so, so much more were taken from me in an instant. And I have to live with that the rest of my life. Everyday he is missing. 50 years from now he will still be missing.

God give me the strength to face each day with courage!.  

14 thoughts on “As The Dreaded Day Approaches…

  1. Stephanie and Jeremy, my heart breaks for you as you approach the 1 year anniversary of dear Lincoln’s going home. I know as a grieved parent that there are never enough words to take away the pain and sorrow you feel. Please know that I am praying for you both and your families. Love you both so much!

  2. I saw a post about a family who participated in random acts of kindness on the anniversary of their loved ones passing. I think it would be a wonderful way to honor Lincoln. If everyone who loves Jeremy and Stephanie could do 1 random act of kindness on this anniversary and could post pictures or stories of what they did, it might do a tiny bit to help them thru this day. It doesn’t have to be anything costly or major……just a kindness to bring a smile on someone’s face they way Lincoln brought a smile to so many. Who’s in?

  3. Hugs and prayers for you two everyday and more fervently as that day approaches. Lean on each other, the strength of Christ, the strength of memories, and the strength of everyone’s love and prayers for you. I know that God is holding the two of you close and Lincoln in the palm of His hand.

  4. Praying for you two daily and more fervently as this day gets closer. Lean on each other, the love and strength of Christ, the strength of memories, and the love and strength of those praying for you. I know that God is holding the two of you close and Lincoln in the palm of His hand.

    May God bless you both and keep you.

  5. Jeremy and Stephanie, I feel in my heart that I can stand for literally hundreds of friends that read every post, every blog, every single word you write about Lincoln and just simply have no words to respond. Our minds begin racing as we can only imagine the grief that you are experiencing as parents. Then to only imagine the grandparent-grief, the great-grandparent grief, the aunt-grief, the uncle-grief, and on and on. Our hearts are weighed down for you two and your entire family… and there just simply are no words. The only words spoken in any fashion are the words that go straight to Jesus asking Him for His peace to rain down on you today and every day. We love you and will continue asking God’s blessings on your lives!

  6. I am so sorry for your loss. This weekend, marks 6 months for us. Each milestone is a painful reminder of the loss. I too have struggled with seeing my daughter’s things. At our request, our family moved everything into the nursery before we arrived home from the hospital. I didn’t have the strength to even look at those items. The door to that room stands as a constant reminder. You will be in my prayers in the coming weeks.

    • Thank you so much for your prayers. It has taken so much time to even move the things that we have. Whether you leave that door close or someday open it, never pressure yourself to do something you don’t want to do yet. I will be praying for you as well as you move through all your anniversaries of missing your sweet baby.

  7. I am still so sorry for your loss. Yesterday I read your post and sat at the table and cried a long time. I cried for Lincoln, his play pen, his swing by the tv, his unworn outfits, for you, your husband, your emptiness. I was putting my son to bed last night and saying his prayers with him and cried again. I told him he has a friend in heaven we will both meet someday, named Lincoln.
    I can’t imagine my thoughts or words helping at all, I just wanted you to know, even though I never had the privilege of meeting him, I am also missing your baby. I see that the world is missing him and it will always be.

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