Just about a month ago the article about Joshua came out in magazines across New Zealand.
A few days later I received a call from a woman who had read the article. She told me her name and then told me that they too had lost their son, and he'd had an encephalocele. I remember being almost speechless. Anyone who knows me, know this doesn't happen very often. In fact the two times I can think of are that time, and the time the doctor told us they couldn't fix Joshua. I mumbled a few things and tried to ask the things I was curious about. Was in big? Did they hold him? How long ago? Did they have other children?
We talked for over an hour that night. At the end of the conversation she mentioned that her husband family lived in our city, and that occasionally they drive up to see everyone (they live 6+ hours away). She asked if "sometime" she might meet me. I said that would be fine, thinking perhaps it would be in a few months, or at Christmas.
Just last week I got a phone call late in the evening, and this same woman said hello. I got confused, and thought it was someone else - someone I didn't like. I was slightly curt and a bit detached in our conversation until she mentioned she and her family were "coming up" and could we meet? And suddenly it clicked that this was Gillian! I apologized profusely, explaining my detached conversation, and said yes please! We arranged for 2pm the following Saturday, and hung up the phones.
Fast forward to Saturday morning and I was cleaning the house. And feeling scared. What if I felt odd, what if I didn't want to talk! What if she made me feel strange, or I felt like I HAD to talk when I didn't want to! At a quarter to 2, as I was vacuuming my lounge and bemoaning my scrubby-looking hair, I started to think she'd probably forgotten. She probably got busy with family, and won't come. I went to the bathroom to fix my hair and out of the corner of my eye I saw shoes coming down the driveway (it's hard to explain, but thats what I see in my bathroom mirror). And then the knock.
Of course, because I'm a goof I asked if she was Gillian. But who else shows up on your doorstep, on time, with photo albums? She'd brought her husband along and two big photo albums of pictures. We sat down and talked a little bit, told our stories. She offered me the number of a local newborn grief support group. And then after an hour she asked what I'd been dying to hear, "Would you like to see pictures of Jeremy?" I jumped up and handed her our photo album and clutched her big photo album in my arms. I sat down and opened the book.
And I saw what I was dying to see.
Jeremy and Joshua looked like brothers. Jeremy's cele was a bit higher, but it was the same size. He had dark hair and darker skin - but he was the carbon copy of Joshua. Their "fresh outta the womb" shots could have been switched around! Their skulls had grown very similar, their noses swept back toward their skulls, their eyes were pulled tight to make them sort of slitty. And he was gorgeous. Not at all one of those - "Ew" moments - it was a relief.
Joshua wasn't the only one who looked like this.
I'd never seen pictures of a child alive with a defect like Joshua. I had seen the picture last week of Elijah, but it only showed part of his face, and I couldn't be sure if they looked alike. But Jeremy, he made me so happy. Unfortunately Gillian, her husband, and their two children only held Jeremy for 2 days before he went to be with Jesus, but he's left an imprint on their lives. He's still a part of their family 3 1/2 years later.
The 2 and a half hour visit made me realize it was comforting to talk to her and her husband - that they understood some things that only a handful of us understand. They know about holding a baby who's not there anymore, and about what our babies looked like when they were gone from us. They know about the pride of having a child, but having to still leave them in a tiny casket.
I am so thankful that I was able to meet them. So thankful that I saw pictures of their little man Jeremy.
*Miss you 'Shua.*
A few days later I received a call from a woman who had read the article. She told me her name and then told me that they too had lost their son, and he'd had an encephalocele. I remember being almost speechless. Anyone who knows me, know this doesn't happen very often. In fact the two times I can think of are that time, and the time the doctor told us they couldn't fix Joshua. I mumbled a few things and tried to ask the things I was curious about. Was in big? Did they hold him? How long ago? Did they have other children?
We talked for over an hour that night. At the end of the conversation she mentioned that her husband family lived in our city, and that occasionally they drive up to see everyone (they live 6+ hours away). She asked if "sometime" she might meet me. I said that would be fine, thinking perhaps it would be in a few months, or at Christmas.
Just last week I got a phone call late in the evening, and this same woman said hello. I got confused, and thought it was someone else - someone I didn't like. I was slightly curt and a bit detached in our conversation until she mentioned she and her family were "coming up" and could we meet? And suddenly it clicked that this was Gillian! I apologized profusely, explaining my detached conversation, and said yes please! We arranged for 2pm the following Saturday, and hung up the phones.
Fast forward to Saturday morning and I was cleaning the house. And feeling scared. What if I felt odd, what if I didn't want to talk! What if she made me feel strange, or I felt like I HAD to talk when I didn't want to! At a quarter to 2, as I was vacuuming my lounge and bemoaning my scrubby-looking hair, I started to think she'd probably forgotten. She probably got busy with family, and won't come. I went to the bathroom to fix my hair and out of the corner of my eye I saw shoes coming down the driveway (it's hard to explain, but thats what I see in my bathroom mirror). And then the knock.
Of course, because I'm a goof I asked if she was Gillian. But who else shows up on your doorstep, on time, with photo albums? She'd brought her husband along and two big photo albums of pictures. We sat down and talked a little bit, told our stories. She offered me the number of a local newborn grief support group. And then after an hour she asked what I'd been dying to hear, "Would you like to see pictures of Jeremy?" I jumped up and handed her our photo album and clutched her big photo album in my arms. I sat down and opened the book.
And I saw what I was dying to see.
Jeremy and Joshua looked like brothers. Jeremy's cele was a bit higher, but it was the same size. He had dark hair and darker skin - but he was the carbon copy of Joshua. Their "fresh outta the womb" shots could have been switched around! Their skulls had grown very similar, their noses swept back toward their skulls, their eyes were pulled tight to make them sort of slitty. And he was gorgeous. Not at all one of those - "Ew" moments - it was a relief.
Joshua wasn't the only one who looked like this.
I'd never seen pictures of a child alive with a defect like Joshua. I had seen the picture last week of Elijah, but it only showed part of his face, and I couldn't be sure if they looked alike. But Jeremy, he made me so happy. Unfortunately Gillian, her husband, and their two children only held Jeremy for 2 days before he went to be with Jesus, but he's left an imprint on their lives. He's still a part of their family 3 1/2 years later.
The 2 and a half hour visit made me realize it was comforting to talk to her and her husband - that they understood some things that only a handful of us understand. They know about holding a baby who's not there anymore, and about what our babies looked like when they were gone from us. They know about the pride of having a child, but having to still leave them in a tiny casket.
I am so thankful that I was able to meet them. So thankful that I saw pictures of their little man Jeremy.
*Miss you 'Shua.*