LIFE AFTER SIDS

The next morning, I rolled over and looked at the clock.  It was six thirty in the morning, the time I’d usually hear Jacob cooing and hollering at me from his crib.  I’d walk in to find him standing up holding onto the rail, smiling at me and excited to start his day – every day.  The horrifying images from the previous evening returned to me like a tidal wave crashing down over my body.  I began to sob “I can’t do this Ladd, I don’t think I’m going to make it through this!”  I was his mother, what was he suppose to do without me?  What was I suppose to do without him?  

Looking back, the days that followed are all a blur.  I remember making funeral arrangements and bits and pieces from the services.  There were over 350 people who signed the guest book at the funeral, including members of the Nolensville Rescue Squad, Police and Fire departments.  Every hug I received made me cry, and every time I cried, the incredible load I carried began to feel a little lighter.   Over the next several weeks our mailbox overflowed with cards and letters – literally, at least 20 each day for the first three weeks - from friends and family, and even more from people we had never met, but who had heard of us through friends and wanted to let us know they were praying for us.  I remember thinking we must have had half the world praying for us, and we could feel it. 

So what did we do that helped us through it?  There were a number of things.  The most important one was to cling to Jesus.   We knew He was the only one who could provide the grace and comfort we so desperately needed.  Only He could restore the joy in our lives that once was Jacob, and only He could assure us that we would all be together again someday.  We leaned on Him, and he carried us through it.  Number two - cling to each other.  No one knew the depth of our pain like the other, so we leaned on each other.  Ladd and I each had our own unique ways of dealing with our grief, but tried to be patient with each other, and did the best we could to understand the other’s process.  Other helpful things included gathering as much information as we could about SIDS/SUID to help us answer all the questions we had, reading grief books, seeing a grief counselor, taking a vacation, and connecting with other grieving families. 

How do you even begin to put back together the pieces of your life when the most important part is missing?  One breath at a time, then one day at a time; by lying flat on your face in the palm of God’s hand until you have the strength to lift your head to look to him.  It reminds me of a child learning to walk…it starts by lifting the head, then pushing up with your hands until you’ve gained enough strength to push up onto your knees.  Eventually you’re able to stand, and then life begins to move forward again.  Slowly, yes, but it does move forward.

We learned early on not to measure our process against others, but to take one day at a time, allowing as much time as was necessary for us to take on the projects of selecting headstone, cleaning up his room, etc.  About two weeks after we buried Jacob, we disassembled his crib, but only because the agony of seeing it empty was more than that of taking it down.  A few weeks later, we began to pack up his room.  Someone had given us a small wooden trunk to store his keepsakes in that was engraved with his name and dates.  In it, we put all his special things: a lock of his hair, his favorite toys, his baby book and a pair of his favorite pajamas (he was so snuggly in his pajamas!).  Then I sat down with a notepad and listed everything I knew about him, everything I wanted to make sure I never forgot.  It came together so well that I added pictures and actually had it bound into a book, printed copies, and distributed it to family members.  We kept three copies for ourselves – one for us, and two for other children we hoped to be blessed with later.

Then, in early March, a little less than five weeks after we buried our first child, we found out we were pregnant with another.  In May, we met a couple who had just lost their six-month-old baby girl, Landrie Grace.  We encouraged one another and grieved collectively, seemingly bonded together by the similar turns our lives had taken.  They could see in us what lay ahead, and we could see in them how far we had come.  Five weeks after they lost Landrie, they asked us to dinner to tell us that they too were expecting another child.   In June, we found out ours was a girl and in September, they discovered they were having a boy.  On November 14, 2007, Abigail Grace Williams was born.  On January 23, 2008, exactly one year after we lost Jacob, Owen was born.

It has been a roller coaster ride for sure.  But as time passes, the ups are much more frequent than the downs.  The bitter memories of that day are fading, giving way to more bittersweet memories of Jacob’s life.  Not a day goes by that we don’t think about Jacob, that we don’t miss him, that we don’t long to hold him again.  But as a shattered vase is put back together, once piece at a time, so our lives are being restored.  Our “new normal” is one of overwhelming joy, peace and love. 

Without a doubt, Abby’s birth and life have been crucial in our journey.  Did she replace Jacob – absolutely not.  But she did fill that emptiness in our arms that his loss left us with.  She’s definitely her own person: strong-willed and stubborn like her daddy, and sweet, loving, and exceptionally smart.  We've been a little over-protective, but who wouldn't be? She knows no difference, only lots of love and affection from everyone around her. 

Update: We found out in May 2009 that we were expecting another bundle of joy! Currin Ladd was born in late December, 2009. We're excited to see what our newest addition will bring to our lives!

One day, when we’re ready, and when Abby and Currin are old enough to understand, we’ll tell them all about their big brother Jacob.