Mason's story-The Aftermath Part 5

The day after Thanksgiving was Mason's funeral. We had a dear family friend keep James and Linda because we felt that they were just not emotionally prepared to deal with the funeral of their little brother. We drove to the church, and I wept on the way. I just didn't want to have to do this, I just wanted so badly to close my eyes and have it all go away. We were the first people at the church. Mason's tiny casket was at the front. We went up their and sat in front of it, I wept some more. The lady from the funeral home came over and asked if I would like her to open the casket one last time. I said no. I am not sure why, I think I was just so overwhelmed that I couldn't take anymore. I wish now I would have said yes though and that haunts me sometimes.

We walked up to and placed our hands on his casket. We both prayed silently for Mason and for strength to endure. My family began to arrive. I can't remember what happened after that, the next thing I remember is being seated and the first song we selected began. The song is titled "Cry out to Jesus". It may seem like an odd song for a funeral, but we knew that there would be unsaved people at the funeral and we wanted to show them that even though we were broken, we still had faith. We wanted them to wonder how they could have that too. Later in the story I will not be so strong when tested. There was one line in particular that seemed like it was sang for us. I am not going to type the whole song, just the parts that spoke to us.

For every one whose lost someone they loved
Long before it was their time.
You feel like the days you had were not enough,
when you said goodbye. ....

There is hope for the helpless,
rest for the weary,
and love for the broken heart.

There is grace and forgiveness,
mercy and healing.
He'll meet you wherever you are.
Cry out to Jesus, oh cry out to Jesus.

The first stanza is pretty obvious on why we chose it. The refrain however spoke especially to me. Hope for the helpless, I felt so helpless when they told me what was happening. I knew I was doing everything I could do, and it still wasn't enough.

Rest for the Weary. I was tired in every way a person could be tired. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, and mentally. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his precious face. In my sleep I had viscous night terrors about the trauma. I was exhausted to a level I have never been to this day.

Love for the broken heart. When something like this happens, you truly feel like you will never be able to be happy again. Love is happiness. You have to allow your broken heart to feel again to be happy.

Grace and forgiveness. Every mother I have ever talked to who has gone through a loss related to IC feels partly, or wholly responsible. It is our jobs to protect our babies, and to have a perfect baby pass away because your body did not do its job leave you with a profound feeling of guilt and failure.

Mercy and healing. I needed to accept God's mercy before I could forgive myself and begin to heal.

He'll meet you wherever you are. Wherever I was. Even if that meant in the pit of depression and anger, God would meet me there all I had to do was Cry out to Jesus. Although it would take months for me to do this, it later becomes an important part of my healing. Something so simple as crying out for my savior changed my life forever, again. More later.

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