Garden of Hope

After Noah died, I had this idea to make a bench in his memory. Everyone in our family had the opportunity to paint their own tile for Noah. The younger kids just did handprints, but picked out the color they wanted. We painted the tiles at The Mad Potter and they fired, grouted and sealed the whole bench. I wanted to put the bench somewhere special, so we made a garden in the backyard. It is now my "Garden of Hope." I planted espiranza bushes in the back that produce yellow trumpet-shaped blooms from summer till frost. Espiranza means "hope", hence my "Garden of Hope."

Thank you to all my family who edulged me by painting a tile. Each one represents just how much Noah is loved. You can see more photos on our website.

Groans

Romans 8 says, "... We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express." I have heard many people say that, but felt that more than ever tonight. Driving home tonight after a less than uplifting doctor's visit, I cried out in prayer to God. But I literally had nothing in my head, no words came to my mouth, all the hurt was there, but it only came out as a groan. And thank God that is all I had to do. I don't have to put into words what I feel or what I want. Thank God that he knows my every thought and need even before I do.

I thought I had come to terms with the idea that we may never know what happened to Noah. And that was okay. He was the way he was because God made him that way. It was not an accident or a punishment, it just was. But as Ethan and I look to the future of another child, Noah's condition really clouds that lens. All of the questions about Noah turn into percentages of suffering the same loss with another child. Without knowing what caused it no one can say it won't happen again. There are still conversations to be had and questions to ask, but that is weighing heavily on my mind tonight. We left Texas Children's with the impression that this was not genetic and should not affect future pregnancies, but tonight I feel different. All I feel are groans.

On a lighter note, I saw my first real rainbow last night. I have seen many in my lifetime, but now a rainbow has a new meaning. The rainbow is a sign of the covenant between God and life on earth, but the rainbow also reminds me of Noah. It was a beautiful site. It gave me peace and put a smile on my face. Alyssa paints on paper and my Noah paints in the sky.

Lord, I wanted to hold my little boy on my lap and tell him about You.
Since I can't do that, will You hold him on Your lap and tell him about me?
~Anonymous

Noah would have been 2 months old yesterday. Amazing the time has gone that fast, and somehow it seems like a year ago since I held him. Alyssa and I have been letting balloons go to Noah almost daily now. We got the idea when I saw hundreds of balloons lifted into the air at a church function. I was imagining them making their way all the way up to Noah. A friend of mine bought me a helium tank so we can make our own balloons whenever we want. Alyssa asks,"Make a balloon for Noah?" So she picks out the color she wants, we blow it up, and we walk outside and say "Here you go Noah", then let them go. Alyssa watches for a bit then forgets. I, on the other hand, stare into the sky and watch that balloon for as long as I can. And wonder if it could actually make it up to my Noah. Wonder if he looks down on us and joins in the fun. Wonder if he knows that I miss him so much. I ask Alyssa if Noah is happy in heaven and she says "Yeah!". But you know how smart kids are, when I asked Blakely the same thing she said, "No." I said, "Why is he not happy?" Blakely said, "He misses his sister." Amazing that four year olds understand the pain too.

I miss you Noah.