12/31/05

I've been asked...


I've been asked many times to post my poems regarding my son.

It may trigger - this is the death of a baby, my child.

I wrote this in 1984. This was my therapy. I welcome comments, unless it's to tell me "it's God's Will" - I don't believe it and I don't want to hear it.  In real life, no one talked about him. Even tho it was so many years ago, he still matters. And as "they" say, time does heal.


MY BABY IS DEAD

My son, Jacob, died in my home, unexpectedly, at the age of 3 1/2 months. He had Spina Bifida and Hydrocephalus, and his future capabilities were uncertain, so his death may have been a blessing for him, but certainly not for me. His brother, Jeremy, and I miss him terribly. He was a beautiful baby, and a joy to have.

Very often a parent expresses a desire to shout out to the world, "MY BABY IS DEAD!" to explain the catastrophe that has befallen their world and to explain their behavior. For us, it seems that simple little statement, "my baby is dead", should be enough, but often, it isn't. People don't understand, and they want you to be the same as you were before the child died. Many parents have said, "I wish I could wear a sign on my back".

This is my sign.
by Laurie Adamson
Jacob Woodard May 6, 1983 - August 22, 1983



1984 - 2016

 copyright @ Laurie Renz/Adamson
.

12 comments:

Unborn Chicken Voices said...

i understand what you mean by wishing you could scream it out. 2 years ago a friend of mine passed away, and she was 14. People assume that death is something you can just 'get over'. its something you can get through, more so than over.

Tao1776 said...

Death of a child is a pain no parent should have to bear. However, this is our life. We avoid the realization that as a human being, death, loss, pain are part of our existance. In the denial of such, the pain intensifies.
I am so sorry for your loss. Please realize (and I'm sure you do) you are not alone. If I told you, that I'd give you ten million dollars if you found one person who has not been touched by the death of another, I'd still be ten million richer.
This is not a critism. I am trying to be helpful. It seems a further tragedy for Jacob that his death in 1983 is still such an overwhelming pain for you. He would not want that for you.

Laurie said...

Tim, these were written in 1984-86. Surely, you haven't had time to read them all.

Anonymous said...

I have read your web page and it must terrible what your both going through. I would say i no how it feels but i'm not goin to lie, i just want you to know there are a lot of peoplke out there thinking of you and wishing you happiness. Many regards jamie xxxxxx

Anonymous said...

I no what you goin through and i know what your feeling many regard Ali xxxxxxxxx p.s it will all be better soon :-)

Anji said...

I think you are just brave. I love both of your blogs

Anonymous said...

You never said, "I'm leaving",
You never said "Goodbye".
You were gone before I knew it,
And only God knows why.

A million times I've needed you,
A million times I've cried.
If love alone could've saved you,
You never would have died.

In life I loved you dearly,
In death I love you still.
In my heart you hold a place,
No one could ever fill.

It broke my heart to lose you,
But you didn't go alone.
For part of me went with you,
The day God called you home.

Dr.John said...

I was nine when my three month old brother died. He seemed to be normal but he wasn't. They tried to save him but they couldn't. I hated God and decided to punish him by not believing. My mother, she couldn't write poems, handled her grief by taking care of state children until they were adopted. Every time the worker came to take the child away it was like losing Robbie all over again for her.
As a pastor I have buried children of various ages and heard the question WHY more times than I care to remember. There is no answer to that question. Each person has to struggle through alone to some kind of conclusion.Some ended up with a stronger more vibrant faith , some did not. I wish there was something I could say that would make everything alright but there's not. This is an imperfect world and humans suffer. THe only thing I know for sure is that God entered into that world and surffered for and with us.

Trisha said...

Something about the way that you express yourself reminds me of myself. Though I have never lost a child, I feel your pain as if it were my own. The courage you have shown dealing with loss and now living with MS is amazing. Keep fighting the good fight!

Sunny said...

You and your son and husband are very precious to Our LORD For he has his arms outstretched for you dear ones.....
Sometimes it is only for Eternity that we will understand...
But his name also is LOVE....

Unknown said...

I stumbled onto your blog through a mutual friend, and read a lot of it. I have something I wanted to share with you. It was posted by a friend who had a stillborn child.
Things to NOT say to a Mom who has lost a child.
1. Well, at least you have other children.
When a child is wanted, loved and prayed for your heart opens wide open no matter how many walk into your heart.
2. Chocolate cures everything.
No, it really doesn't and you just trivialized my pain.
3. Count your blessings. At least you haven't been attached yet.
Yes, I do. How do you know how much I was attached?
4. See, your problem is Faith, if you had Faith, this wouldn't be so hard.
My faith is not in question. If the Lord doesn't question my faith, I don't think you should either.
5. It's so nice to see you among the living, we thought you were totally lost in the valley of the dead.
Just not nice, or funny, or welcoming.
6. You are so lucky all yours are not in this stage, my baby has been making me crazy.
Hello? Your's is breathing. All I wanted to do was hold and raise mine.
7. Well, I just figured since you lost your baby, you would be willing to babysit.
I do like holding babies, but please let me ask when I feel like it.
8. Your just hormonal.
Yes, it takes a while to feel back to normal, but this is kind of like saying, Are you PMSing?
9. When stated I just feel overwhelmed, don't tell me that I am just not doing enough.
10. You can still have others.
Yes, but this one was also wanted.
11. You should be done grieving.
Who sets a time limit? If I had lost a 6 yr old, you wouldn't say that.
12. What did you do?
You think this is my fault? Are you going to make me take longer to forgive myself for something not in my control?
13. What have you done to grieve?
What are you saying? Now, I'm doing this wrong?
14. Are you pregnant again yet?
If I haven't lost the weight yet, or if you are just curious if I am trying, don't ask.
15. You don't look the same, cowboy up girl. Put on your big girl panties and get over it.
Don't be surprised if you get a nasty response.
16. If they reach out to you. Listen.
17. When they reach out, don't punish them for ignoring you.
18. Don't offer to take their kids unless you know this is desirable.
19. Don't forget the whole family hurts. Maybe not exactly the same as Mom, but don't treat their pain as trivial or non-existent.
20. There is a painful recovery period. Not only emotionally, but physically.

Things to do.
1. Say you're sorry, but not in a public place.
2. Call,but leave a message. They will get back to you when they can handle it.
3. Tell your story.Lots of women go through this, but tell them privately.
4. Send a note.They can open when they feel like it.
5. Email is good. Facebook is good.
FBChat not so much in the beginning.
6. Don't add more responsibilities to their family.
7. Make sure they are ready to receive visitors. Call first or leave things on their doorstep.
8. Give them space.
9. Love them. Leave judgments to God. Enough said.
10. Offer to help, if you can.
11. Give them a chance to serve, but just caring for their family is all they may be able to handle right then.

Anonymous said...

Hi my name is Alaynna Lyman. I found your book whike I was cleaning out the home of a man who passed away recently and couldnt stand not contacting you. Your writing is very touching and I dont know what else to say but may you heal.