Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Life according to Michelle...

The Duggars recently aired the episode which chronicled the discovery of their daughter's death and her memorial service. Typically, I do not watch this show, but I heard this episode was airing, so I made it a point to watch. Even though I do not understand many of the family's lifestyle choices, several things about their ordeal really struck home.

First off, I was so impressed and touched by Michelle's serene approach to what had happened. She said so many things that really resonated with me. She spoke often of how much joy Jubilee had brought them during the 18 weeks she had been alive. I had never thought of this before, but even with all the risk and sacrifice associated with my pregnancy, I was SO HAPPY to be pregnant with triplets. I enjoyed thinking of the men they would one day become and trying to predict what each of their personalities would be. I enjoyed hoping and dreaming for them, and I was so excited and anxious to meet my little men. When Boe died, I was so consumed by the shock and sadness that accompanied his death that I forgot to remember how much joy he brought to me during the days he was living.

Michelle also spoke of how Jubilee got see the Lord first. I am no where near as religious or devout as the Duggars are, but I found such peace and comfort in this thought. If Boe never got to lay eyes on his mommy and daddy, at least the first thing he saw was someone who will always accept him, protect and love him. The last thing that really stood out to me was the kind of life she believes Jubilee will now have. She spoke of the fact that Jubilee will never have to cry or feel pain. She will never experience sadness, heartache or despair. Adam and I both feel that, had Boe lived, he would have been compromised in some way, to what extent we cannot predict.

As a parent, you try your damnedest each and every day to shield your children from pain and sadness even if it means that you, yourself, hurt in their stead. If carrying this sadness, this awful, empty burden, is what it takes to guarantee that my little boy never cries; if his life needs to take place in the solace of another, more powerful, set of arms to save him from a life of discomfort, struggle and pain, then I will bear that burden. I may not do it willingly or always happily, but at least I can do it knowing that he is in the care of someone far greater and more capable than I, and I can do it with gratitude for the joy he brought me while he lived and the joy that keeping his memory close brings to each day.

No comments:

Post a Comment