a father's heart is torn in two....

talking tonight with ian, i realized after the shock and awe portion of today 4 years ago, i was wailing and thrashing and soon sedated for the rest of the day, in and out. i remember vaguely seeing my parents by my bedside and later that night my brother, i remember ian's hand holding mine tight at times, but mostly i went from chaos to prescribed sleep while i labored....i woke up in the icu the next morning, after almost dying the night before, being filled with 14 bags of somebody else's blood....there in the icu, with a still little baby girl in my arms. today's trauma and remembering is with ian in ways i don't even know. i realized that tonight, how alone he was all day....he had my family, he had our pastor..but as far as his partner, his wife, sydney's momma, the only one who truly knew what he was feeling, he was alone. and he carried all the weight of our loss on his own for a whole day until i was awake in my own hell the next day...

many things my man has done to make me proud or see him in such a light, but to stand in those shoes, all alone in death.. makes him braver than most men i know, stronger than many daddies i know and changed him forever. many will focus on me, the mom. but ian was a tree of strength and still is. i am in awe of how a young daddy went from picking out baby bedding one day, so excited to meet his baby girl soon to driving alone to the funeral home to plan her burial arrangements. alone. he drove home alone to get a break from the icu chaos and came home alone to see liam. without me. he had family near, but not me. no one to carry this insane intense burden with. so it wouldn't feel so heavy. he went down to the cafeteria alone, without me. to try and find a way to eat, something, anything and stare out the window. pretending that eating a meal was normal. grief lasts. the sting is gone, and it's replaced with the Hope of heaven and reconciliation. but the trauma stays with you. it's just the consequence of our fallen world....the now not yet that we live in. we press on, we look to the Cross and push forward, we miss her and we choose Joy...yet days for us are sometimes filled with remembering the trauma that happened to us that day....yes, we lost our daughter. that blanket statement sounds so pretty and wrapped up nice. the ugly inside reveals awkward moments of nurses telling us it's ok to hold her cold body, uncomfortable conversations of what to do with her body while the cafeteria delivers my current meal or the tech cleans my trash can, the silence of me and my husband crying over and praying for our still daughter in my arms, the stoic young father walking into a funeral home room full of urns that looks eerily like walmart, and most awfully the moment we had to hand her over to a nurse and leave the hospital, without her. literally, leaving her, our very own flesh of flesh in the arms of a stranger. ian had to hold me up and push me and my legs to that elevator and carry me and my dead weight walking to the car....what kind of man does that make? what kind of things does that leave in a man's mind, what does that do to a man's heart? trauma. scars...lasting wounds.

we promised to cherish each other and love one another till death do us part....our minister who married us, accidentally, in our vows said, "in sickness and in death" instead of health....we in a nervous trance, just simply repeated what we heard, "in sickness and in death..." we always laughed at that part of the wedding video. until a day or so after we sat in death's arms and we realized how ironic that was, how telling and how poignant it was for us, in our partnership and marriage.

many men can graduate with honors from important colleges, many men can excel in the workplace or a boardroom. many men can dress the part and make ends meet, support their family and never have to make such decisions as my ian had to that day, that week....tonight, in talking and sharing, i realized how deep his scars run, how much he saw that i was protected from, how much he carried in those first few hours, alone. and i am grateful to a Heavenly Father who carried him and sat with him and walked with him in those halls and cried with him in the car and held him tightly in His grip in the darkness. i am thankful that as we both look back to that sad sad day, that we both would see that we were not alone. that ian was not alone at all. he had Jesus with him, propping him up to be strong, His strong and to be steady, His steady...

i am writing this tonight to honor sydney's daddy. he may not have gotten to show her how to change a tire like he wished, built her a dollhouse or walk her down the aisle to her groom....but i know my ian did his best and bravest to walk her to her Home. i know that ian was a tree of strength and steadfastness that day, in ways he may not even recognize today...but we should always remember that while it takes two to make a baby and create life, it also includes two with the loss. many will support me and encourage me, text me and call me, bring me treats and hugs and send cards.... my ian doesn't see that as much, guys are guys, i know that...but ian lost that day, his daughter and much much joy and a light in his eyes, but also a part of him that is forever gone, a part of his innocence and manhood that was replaced quickly with a warrior mentality, a mindset for battle in a way that only death can bring... i felt tonight like ian needed to be recognized for his part in all of this, for his loss, for his huge sydney hole heart place that he carries still, for the emptiness and place that is there in her absence...for his grace and faithfulness to me the past four years....for holding my hand on hard days and letting me cry on the kitchen floor or car, for fighting for our faith to be real in all of this, together, raw, real faith wrestling...he's been to the mat for four years in that fight...for bringing me pretty girly flowers today after work to cheer my heart and for being the only one who is connected to sydney grace in the way i am, that we share....till death do us part.

i prayed tonight for one to merely speak to ian as a father of loss, and my prayer was answered within the hour. sweetly, by a sweet Christ sister that loves us....i am grateful and humbled to see how God moved and urged and answered, faithfully, to have someone show ian that mercy and love...His hands and feet.

i love you my dear, i am honored and humbled to walk this crappy crooked road called grief while He makes our paths straight as we trust him and follow him fiercely. all of my love to you, love.