Cyrus’ Birthday 2020

“We have one son in heaven, but none on earth at the moment.” This is what I have come to say whenever faced with the challenging question that is so often asked. I say it that exact way for a couple of reasons: first, I immediately want people to be jarred out of the normal comfort that our society has given to people to ask anyone that question in the first place. I know it has become common and for many people, it is the natural thing in life to do when talking to someone that is at least in their mid-twenties or older and has been married for at least thirty seconds. However, for many people that is a loaded question filled with mixed emotions of pain, sorrow, and grief. The number of people that have dealt with miscarriages (1 in 4 pregnancies), infertility (15% equating to 48.5 million), and other painful scenarios related to pregnancy are staggering. Not to mention the fact that more than 132 million children in the world are abandoned or orphaned and yet people continue to insist on having children of their own while in data examining over 130 countries it was shown that 77 of them are overpopulated, which means they are consuming more resources than they are producing. I could go on and on about how the perspective of what America considers to be a “real family” or simply to be “successful” is slowly but faithfully killing society, but I will save that for another time. I will simply say that we need to stop having children and start adopting until every child in the world has a home and a family. End of rabbit trail.

 

The other reason I phrase my answer to “the question” that way is because I want to let people know that while, yes, my son lived only for an hour and nine minutes on this earth, his existence still counts and matters. Just like any child which so many people in this world have. This year my son would have been 7 years old on earth. He would hopefully have been starting second grade, learning more application to the basic numbers he’s already been working on, he will start diving into fractions and getting the foundations for what will help him learn the multiplication tables. He would also start improving his reading skills and how to retell the stories he has been learning and even be able to write about it too. There are so many days that I wish my son was here and that I could help him with his homework, but I cannot. 

 

Also, in addition to wanting people to know that my son existed and matters, I also want people to know that I believe He was and is in God’s hands. Even though it was painful to miss out on all the moments of watching him grow and raising him to be a man that loves and honors the Lord, the reality is that I still know God is sovereign and that His plans are ultimately good, meaning they will bring Him the glory He deserves. That is not something that I say blindly or flippantly or easily, but it is true. Lastly, I always want people who ask that question to know that I have not given up on having children at some point down the road. My wife and I are still healing and still dealing with the grief that comes from not having our son with us, and while we do not desire to simply replace Cyrus with another child, as so many seem to insinuate would just “make things better,” we do still trust God’s plan, even if that means having more children someday (which will not be easy for us). Whether that means giving birth to more children or adopting children or simply being a parent to the community God places us in; whatever our future looks like, I trust in the perfect love and compassion of my Creator and His ability to know what is best for us.

 

Moving onto the next thing; as loaded as being asked the question, “do you have children?” is, after giving the same answer I always give, the response I get from people can be very telling as well. I understand that when the question is asked, the people are NEVER expecting the answer that I provide and I want to be clear, I am not angry that the question is asked; in truth, I have no issue talking about my son, his story, his brief life on earth, and how it has affected me. The problem I do have is more when people suddenly get really quiet and awkward and typically give the most common of replies, “I am so sorry, I can’t even imagine.” I know we do not live in a world where people think through a lot of what they say and what they actually mean, and I am even guilty of occasionally not speaking as accurately and thoughtfully as I could. As I hope for grace to be extended to me in those moments, I try to extend the same grace to others. The goal should be growth and understanding and truthfully, that is what my wife and I want more than anything else in these situations. What are you sorry for? I think that quite often people are sorry they asked the question that forced me to talk about something very sad that has now made the situation uncomfortable. I get that, I really do, but honestly, I think in today’s world we need to be willing to be more uncomfortable if it leads to greater understanding (which I think can lead to greater empathy and therefore more kindness and compassion in society). The truth is that everyone is dealing with different kinds of pain and emotional trauma than we may all be aware of. The enemy (Satan) tries to convince us that what we are going through is unique and that we therefore should keep it to ourselves because he wants us to suffer alone, quietly, letting the damage continue inside until it destroys us. We need to embrace the discomfort and break through our fears and anxieties and get down to the root of what we are thinking and feeling and work to evolve to a better version of ourselves that is willing to be vulnerable with others but also helps create environments where people can be vulnerable with us too. 

 

The truth is, you actually CAN imagine what I am going through, but you choose not to out of fear. I get that and I do not fault you for feeling that way, I was the same way before my life was turned upside down and even still, I acknowledge that I occasionally sense that “fight or flight” urge in my soul when faced with other people’s varying degrees of tragedy. It is not a fun place to go to in our minds, but I think it can be a good and healthy practice to get into if done well with love, sensitivity and wisdom (true wisdom can only come from God via the Holy Spirit). This is the very picture that scripture paints the church to be. Acts 4:32 talks about how the people had all things in common, James 5:16 talks about confessing your sins to one another and praying for one another, and Ephesians 4:32 instructs us to be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave us, and these are just a few of the verses painting a picture of what Christ designed the church to be. I hope and pray that if you have read this far that you hear from my heart that I do not mean for all these words to come across as angry words or complaining words being ranted from someone that is simply in pain. Every day I pray that God will give me wisdom and greater understanding to see myself as I truly am and that He will give me the ability to use what He has brought me through to help others to better see my Creator and fall in love with Him and His word which pierces deeper than anything we can possibly imagine.

 

So why am I writing all these things down? Those of you that know me best know that I feel deeply, sometimes more deeply than what may be emotionally healthy for me. As I often do, I sense God calling me to jump, and like Peter when Jesus asked him to step out on the water, I get out of the boat before I realize all that comes along with it. The waters are deep, the wind is strong, and my mind is a dangerous place filled with doubt and worry. I am too often tempted to take my eyes off Jesus, and I start to sink. But the more often I sink, the stronger I get as I am forced to swim back up to the surface. I have had to swim a lot over my 37 years on this earth and the Lord in His faithfulness has taught me things I never would have imagined or had certainly volunteered for. However, I am convinced that the lessons I have learned are not just for me and it would be selfish for me to keep them to myself. I want to be part of a culture shift and the only way that happens is by facing the pain and speaking up. I write and share in hopes that others will read and be encouraged to do the same. If you have gone through emotional trauma, be willing to share it, maybe you’re not there yet, but be willing to start working towards sharing it. Maybe just share it with someone you are closest to that you can trust and pray and ask God to give you the strength and courage to possibly share with someone less comfortable down the road as He leads you to those opportunities. Who knows how He may use it to bless that person? I have been amazed at the people that have continued to come out and share their stories of loss that I had no idea about. The truth is, you are not alone, and you should never have to suffer in silence. 

 

Now to those of you that may still find yourself on the receiving end of this challenging news, I have to warn you that it will still not be easy to hear. The shock factor is almost always there to some degree, but the key is to actually let your mind go there. Instead of closing yourself off and apologizing, allow yourself to think through what it would be like if it did happen to you. Imagine losing someone that you greatly care about long before they should have died. If you have children of your own, then imagine getting news of a fatal diagnosis or try imagining losing them shortly after they were born and missing out on all the moments you have had with them. Humans use their imagination all the time: for happy thoughts, scary thoughts, and even deeply sad thoughts. Our emotional health has on the surface seemed fine for decades, but we are only more recently discovering that it is actually a façade. How we really feel has been bottled up and packaged in a box with a smiley face drawn on it so no one will bother asking about what’s inside. The problem is, our emotions are not an inanimate object that remains the same, can be left somewhere and picked up whenever it is convenient. They are living and ever-evolving and the truth is, the more we try to conceal them the more unpredictable they become. We must work to understand where they come from and we were not designed to deal with them on our own. God made Adam and very quickly saw that it was not good that he was alone and so he, therefore, made him a helper. This is not to say that we all need to be married because that is certainly not true (that’s another rabbit trail for another time). God designed His people to share life with each other and that is what this incredibly long writing is trying to help the reader understand. 

 

Yes, I acknowledge that being around the married couple whose baby died is not something many are going to seek out. Everyone would much rather spend time with the couple that has the adorable children or the cute little babies. Plenty of people love the idea of watching the children play with their toys outside or watch as the sweet couple takes their “family” out for a walk. Yet every time I see a young dad holding his son’s hand as they walk out to the car, my heart just aches as I cannot help but miss my son and all the moments that I will never have with him. Every time we hear the sound of children (whether screaming, crying, or just exclaiming) it immediately acts as a trigger and that may never change. We are still a work in progress. The Lord is still working in our hearts. Healing takes time. Believe me, we don’t want to feel this pain, but we also don’t want to forget or pretend like our son’s life didn’t happen. It is much easier to “like” a beautiful color picture of someone’s children from their recent trip, adventure, or accomplishment than it is the black and white picture of our son from seven years ago. I get it. 

 

Yes, November is a hard month for us, especially the closer we get to his birthday, on the 25^th but truthfully there are so many dates that are triggers we are always dealing with the feeling of loss and sorrow. Thanksgiving will forever be a challenging date for a variety of reasons. There’s also the date we found out we were pregnant, the date we heard the news from the doctor about his fatal diagnosis, the date we announced our pregnancy to our family, the date we traveled to the children’s hospital to fight for his life, the date my wife’s water broke and the day we went back home to try and carry our son to full term. Please do not make the mistake of thinking that bringing up our son will make us sad as if to think that there is a day where we are trying not to think of him and that therefore we are “happy” or are “having a good day” when suddenly you bring up our son and we spiral into a depressed state. Our son is always on our heart and mind and we are dealing every day with the reality that is our world without him and the mixed emotions that come along with that. We are thankful and joyful that he survived labor and was actually born. It means so much that we got to hold him, as did our family and friends. We are thankful that we have pictures of him and other keepsakes. We know that many parents have been in similar situations and did not get to have those things, so we do not take what God has given us for granted one bit. 

 

I hope and pray that this peek into my heart has been helpful, I hope that it will encourage those who are also struggling in secret pain to step forward and share with someone they can trust. I hope it will change people’s inclination to ask “the question” and if they do still ask maybe be more prepared to listen to a less than normal response to the question. Happy 7th Birthday Cyrus! 

A brief explanation of how it feels

When you get pregnant (or your wife gets pregnant) God immediately starts filling your heart with a new kind of love unlike anything you've ever experienced before. It grows and grows unexpectedly inside you until you feel like your heart is gong to explode. Then when your child is finally born you start pouring that love into that child every day of your life as that love & that child continues to grow. If you have a child you know what I'm talking about. To not love your child is like not breathing. Now imagine that same scenario except your child isn't here. You feel like your heart is going to explode every single day and there's no cure. It's like the worst possible tease and you totally fell for it. You feel like a fool yet given the option you'd gladly do it again. This is part of what it means to be a parent. I guess.

The Beard

The Beard

Some of you know the story about my beard and some of you do not, but in truth, none of you know all of it because only in time as I have thought about it more have I come to formulate my thoughts into words. Many of you may already at this point be wondering what the big deal is, “it’s just a nasty beard”. If you have the desire to know my thoughts then read on but if this all just seems silly to you then it may be wasted on you. In which case, there is no point in you reading any further. But for those that would like a glimpse into why I have grown and continued to keep this beard, please read on. But please be gentle and considerate as you do so.

I’ll be honest, the beard started over 1 year ago. For those of you that follow my wife’s blog of our “Year of First” you may have read about the other day that this time a year ago we were in Philadelphia fighting for my son’s life. We had no idea how long we were going to be there but we were content to stay as long as needed to do whatever was necessary for Cyrus. As most of you now know we did not end up staying near as long as we thought (or even hoped). Our trip was tragically cut short and we were sent home with no hope from man whatsoever. Well during our time in PA I was in a very new but challenging emotional state. On the one hand I was incredibly sad, worried and fearful for my son’s life. We were giving Cyrus the best possible chance at life that we knew how yet we knew that at any time everything could turn horribly bleak. But on the other side of my emotions was optimism, hope & faith that my God would deliver my son miraculously and that everyone that doubted, everyone that thought he was hopeless would be proven wrong and that miracles were possible and very real. These 2 sides of my emotions were constantly at battle with each other. I needed to be strong for my wife, for our mothers that had graciously traveled with us, and for my son who needed someone to fight for him and value his life. I carried that role without hesitation. As a father there was access to a strength unlike I had known before. As I carried that role, my beard began to grow. 

In the midst of so many procedures and hospital visits, early mornings, late nights we tried to still do things to take our mind off of the emotionally taxing situation we were in. I’m sure many of you would wonder how in the middle of all this going on how we could go site seeing, shopping or out to eat. Well it wasn’t easy but we needed to take up time between the procedures and we also needed a distraction. Not like we were ever fully distracted from what was happening (it remained in our mind at all times) but in part we were able to enjoy time together and try to just trust that everything was going to be ok. So we went site seeing and saw the Rocky Museum, the Art Museum, the Liberty Bell and many of the other interesting sites that Philadelphia had to offer. To everyone we came in contact with we probably seemed like just your regular tourist, completely unaware of the real reason we were there. We went shopping as well, as we didn’t know how long to pack for we decided to pack for a week and just wash clothes as needed. In an effort to pick up our spirits and just to show us kindness, our mothers took us both shopping several times while we were there and bought us clothing that even now, looking at or wearing reminds us of a time of hardship but also of trust and bonding. We do not deserve such great mothers, but then again, there’s a lot we don’t deserve that our Creator gives us anyways. We also went out to eat. We walked to most places and thankfully there were several good food options around us and we frequented some of them numerous times. We had to eat, and getting out allowed us to once again, distract ourselves from the challenges we were continuing to face each day. So this was our life for the few weeks we were there. I can’t believe that we were even able to get there and give our son the best chance possible. Truly, that whole trip was only made possible by the Love of Christ demonstrated through one main family. I don’t share their name because I know they have no desire to receive recognition. But they know who they are and some of you may know as well. From making flights possible, to making hotels possible and even showing up in PA to give us a ride and a friendly face they were Jesus to us in a way unlike I have ever experienced before. To this day, thinking of their kindness almost brings me to tears. I can not thank them enough. Honestly it went by fast and even though it may seem as though ultimately the trip was pointless because it did not end in saving Cyrus’ life, there was a point. There was a purpose.

In addition to our “tourist” activities, we also found a local church, Christ Community Church of Philadelphia. I don’t know why we picked that church. There were other churches that were a little bit closer. They were all within walking distance but I think it was in part because they met in an old church building that honestly looked cool. So we gave it a try. I grew up going to church and after both attending and serving in one for the majority of my adult life I knew that especially at a time like this, I needed to worship with other Believers. Church is not perfect, but I’m convinced that it is essential for every Believer to be actively connected to a body of Believers. So we gave this place a try but had no idea what to expect. As we walked in we received the usual hand shake and welcome greeting but that was about it. We didn’t know where anything was but the church was not very large, mostly just a sanctuary with a few other rooms. We wandered upstairs because they had these large very cool looking staircases. We eventually found the balcony and discovered that we were actually early and there was a staff meeting going on. We sat down and just stayed quiet. I have to say, that even that staff meeting was encouraging and uplifting (which is strange). Well a short time later that ended and everyone started getting the service going. But the blessing that we received from that church was definitely not what we were expecting. I could go into more detail but that’s for another segment. All the while, my beard continued to grow. But I had no one to impress, no meetings to go to, no one that I really knew to judge me.

Honestly, I had never grown my beard very long before. I thought about it several times but eventually gave up on it either because it would irritate me, itch or because it would look “unkempt” or “unprofessional” or simply because enough people complained about it and how it looked. Well as I mentioned earlier, our trip to Philadelphia did not end as optimistically as it had started. The doctor told us that it was over. There was nothing left to do. We’d done everything we could but it was time to end our sons life. He gave us 3 options (none of which were positive). Option #1 - Terminate the pregnancy in Philadelphia (this was what he most recommended). Option #2 - Go back home to Charlotte and terminate there (he said it was risky traveling but that it would probably be fine). Option #3 - Just wait and see but risk getting infected and not only losing the baby but my wife could die too (this was obviously not the option he recommended at all). If you know anything about our story, you know that we chose to trust in our God, THE God who is not limited and I am so glad we did because though it was the most painful time of my life, the time I spent with my son outside the womb on November 25th 2013 starting at 7:31am was and is the most precious time in my entire life. But sadly, the hour and nine minutes went by too fast and we were forced to say good bye to our son so too soon after we just began saying hello. This time would now mark the deepest state of sadness and depression that I have ever experienced. My wife & I have at that point been married for approximately 5-1/2 years and dated for 3 years before that and had never gone through anything like that before. Sadness permeates our hearts and minds. Constant reminders of our loss are everywhere from baby announcements, children’s birthday parties to even seeing children (especially babies) out in public. Everything reminds us of Cyrus and the fact that he’s not here with us. 

Now for me this situation is very different. We went through this entire situation from when we decided to try and start a family, to the moment we found out we were pregnant to the fatal diagnosis to the procedures to the delivery and eventual farewell of our son. But I was not the one that carried our son. That joy and sacrifice goes only to my beloved. The role that our Creator designed in the forming of the universe remains the same. All I could do was carry her and be there every step of the way. Every Dr visits. Every procedure. Everything, I was there by her side, holding her hand, praying over her and my son and often times holding her as she cried. This was such a hard time for us but also a time for growth. The Lord gave us strength to endure this situation unlike anything we thought before and for that we are forever thankful. Part of me is jealous of the role she gets to play as mother to Cyrus but I know that God is sovereign and designed us both uniquely but differently. Now that Cyrus is with Jesus and my wife & I are left here on earth for a certain period of time until we can see him again we are forced to try and adjust to a “new normal” life. Never again will we forget our son, but never again will we take life for granted. Never again will we take a normal pregnancy or a healthy baby for granted (not that we necessarily ever did). Some of you may have noticed earlier when I used the term “we were pregnant”. I’m sure there are many women and mothers out there that may rise up at that and point out that I wasn’t the one carrying and that I wasn’t pregnant. Although they are right, Cyrus was not inside me, I did not feel contractions and experience all the physical changes a woman’s body goes through during this, I was still pregnant. The Bible describes a man and a woman that come together in the Holy Sanctity of marriage as one flesh. What she experiences, I experience and vise versa. I was with her through it all, and believe me, when she hurts, so do I. But now that we are left with just our memories, some physical keepsakes and a tattoo or two what is left? What do we do now? My wife bears the battle scars of the pregnancy and she will never forget that experience (neither will I, from my perspective). 

In biblical times when a father lost someone precious to them they would often tear their clothes, throw ashes on themselves and often times wear sackcloth or something that would show the world that this person is grieving. It communicated to everyone that saw that person that they have experienced a difficult loss and I think for those that cared for them it communicated that they should be treated with extra care, love & compassion. In today’s age we don’t do that anymore. I feel the same but when I go out in the world no one knows any different and they go about their own lives. Plus, those that knew me but did not know what I had gone through would also not know that anything was different about me. I looked the same as I always did. Except for one thing that is, the beard. Society has been forced over the past 5-10 years to change their perspective on facial hair. No longer is the clean cut the only acceptable norm. Where as before a beard usually went along with a homeless person, or perhaps someone in a “blue collar” lifestyle or maybe just a wilderness person that lived their life more outdoors. But to see a beard in corporate america for the longest time has not been acceptable. But times have changed. You see beards everywhere. Long beards, short beards, shaped beards, natural beards, red beards, black beards, white beards and more. There are even clubs, societies and competitions centered around beards and other facial hair. It’s amazing. I have a good friend that has an excellent beard and has since I was in college over 10 years ago. IF you were to ask him why he chose to grow his beard there is no telling what he might tell you but it would become very obvious that he is passionate about it. In biblical times you picture people with beards and long hair, probably more so because of the lack of availability to cut your hair or shave your beard. It became a status symbol. A long beard showed age and experience, a grey or white beard showed wisdom. In Jewish culture there was much to be valued for long hair and/or a beard. You may remember the story of Sampson where God chose to show His glory through Sampson’s strength connected to his long hair by way of covenant with God. When his hair was cut something changed, not only did his strength go away but his relationship with God was changed forever. His eyes were opened to how much he needed God in his life and he suddenly realized how much he had taken God for granted. So it’s easy to see the significance to physical appearance and especially hair growth. Our appearance says a lot about us. To some people our appearance is too important. 2 Corinthians 5:16 reminds us that we no longer recognize man according to the flesh as we used to (even thought we still do in sin). We can’t help it, we see someone and the way they look and immediately we assume and make judgements in our hearts and mind. Some of us are more willing to change those judgments once we get to know them better than others. But the fact remains, we have eyes, we can see people, we will always make assumptions of people we don’t know based on how they look. I’ve been able to experience the way people treat someone with a beard. I’ve been told that i look more intimidating or threatening. Now I have trimmed part of my beard in an effort to somewhat appease the world I live in and look professional in my work. But chin part of my beard has remained untouched since that time in August of 2013 when we went to Philadelphia to fight for my sons life.

Now, all I have that makes my appearance stand out is my beard. Every time I look at myself I see it and I think of my son. Many people still don’t like my beard and I’ll be honest, there are many times I don’t care for how I look with it either. There is a lot of extra maintenance that goes into it and it would be very easy at times to just get rid of it. But when ever I consider getting rid of it my heart starts to ache. For me, keeping the beard is my way of tearing my clothes and throwing ashes on my head. It may not communicate the same thing today as those things did in biblical times but for those that know me it changes my appearance and how they look at me. They see a beard and for those that knew me before I had this long beard they know how long I’ve had it. To many I’ve referred to it as my “Cyrus Beard”. I don’t know if I will ever get rid of it. I may, I may not. Part of me has always thought that eventually the people in the bible would have to bath and put on new clothes and move on with their life. Truthfully I am not ready to do that yet. I believe one day my wife’s and my heart will be put back together. Our hearts will bear scars but they will be put back together. I don’t know when that will be though. Neither of us do. So be careful how you treat everyone you meet. You have no idea what they have or are going through. You don’t know why they look the way they do or dress the way they do. It may be for a good reason that you may or may not understand. They next time a person speeds up behind you and whips around you don’t honk your horn at them and wave obscene gestures at them, they might be rushing to the hospital to see someone before they die. The next time someone is rude to you, don’t just curse them out, they might have gone through a hardship or even a loss but still had to go to work to pay bills. These people may just need some love and compassion. I’m not saying that if life gets hard enough that gives you permission to put yourself above others but just be lenient with people and love on them as Christ did. Every time someone tells me they don’t like my beard or that I should cut it off, it hurts a little. Even though I know they don’t know what they’re saying and they don’t know it hurts me. I certainly don’t fault them. But my perspective of people is forever changed. If one day the Lord gives me a peace and restores my soul I may decide to get rid of the beard. This will not mean that I’m all better. Just like if my wife and I ever get pregnant again and the child lives, that does not mean we are “better” or that things are “back to normal”. We will never forget our first born son Cyrus. He has changed us both and so many others forever. Thank you to all of you who have been patient and understanding with us through this time. Thank you to all of you who have donated, given of your time, talents or self to us. The kindness you display is not overlooked or under appreciated. God has used it in our lives exactly when we’ve needed it. Continue to pray for us, we still very much need it.