A Year Removed

It’s been a little over a year since we lost our newborn son, Lennox, after 4 never-ending days of hoping and waiting. 

The excitement leading up to Christa’s second delivery was intense, as I was about to share my birthday with Lennox. It was a day that would be special to both of us moving forward and I was already forecasting future adventures. But things took an unexpected turn, putting both my wife and my son’s life in jeopardy. The outcome of our hospital stay was that Christa’s life was saved and Lennox’s was not.

I cannot express in words how grateful I am that Christa was able to come home with me, back to our daughter, and all that is our world— I still have nightmares where she does not.

But the decisions we had to make, the realities we were forced to accept and the damage we were left to endure seemed insurmountable.

I started writing this a few weeks ago, right before Christa and I left for a week-long getaway to the Pacific Northwest. This was a trip that I planned shortly after our initial stages of grief as a way for us to be somewhere different and amazing in an attempt to take our minds off of the anniversary at hand. I wanted to churn out some of my thoughts about how I felt, but what came out was angry, scattered, and swayed by emotion.

I took a step back and decided to allow things to breathe a little bit longer and reassess things after we’d had our first chance to unwind since our world was turned upside down.

I’m glad I did.

We’ve been back for more than a week now - back to our routines and the memories of our recent adventures are quickly fading into the mental yearbooks of our lives. The usual post-vacation blues I often battle with didn’t show up this time, and getting into the swing of normal daily life was a much smoother transition than expected. I think it’s because we got what we set out for. 

What I’m learning as I move through life, is that this is a grand accumulation of choices altered often by uncontrollable variables. Some of these variables are mild and require minor adjustments while some are extreme and require major modification. However, you are in control of what choice you make to adjust. Will it be beneficial and serve you/others moving forward, or will it be detrimental and hurt you/others?

I’ve been trying my hardest to make any and every decision I can to benefit myself so that I can be a better person and better serve my community. If it seemingly can make me a happier person and help others, I will at the very least consider it. I almost feel like this began out of necessity to fight the depression initially, but it has developed into something more as of late.

I feel a need to celebrate the things I enjoy in life because it feels cruel not to. My son never had the opportunity to enjoy anything so to honor him, I choose to keep chasing all that I think is worth it.

I’m glad that I’ve been forcing light onto the darkness because I can explore things with a more complete perspective, rather than just wallowing in the negativity. Also, if you open your mind you’re able to capture moments that you might have missed otherwise. I would bet that those searching for silver linings often come across more than their counterparts.

So while I was out running up some of the trails at Mt. Rainier, I was working to channel my inner positive perspective to see if I couldn’t find a revelation about how I felt a year after we said goodbye to Lennox. I was running hard, my lungs burning, my legs were on fire and tears were flowing. I looked at the mountain in front of me and the sun coming up behind me. I thought about how lucky I am to experience this — these views, the sun coming up again, the ability to move my body with purpose. I thought about Christa sleeping cozily in the bed at our rental. I thought about our daughter Callie back home in North Carolina, in good hands with her grandparents. The thoughts kept coming, were spinning through my mind chaotically and the only takeaway I had at the moment was, “I am happy.”

I am happy.

Life is not always going to feel good, and some experiences will scar you forever. However you choose to look at it, the reality is that you can’t have the ups without the downs. And nothing lasts forever.

It’s unreal to think that just over a year ago we experienced such a devastating loss — a pain that’s been damn near unshakable. But also, within just a year of using what the experience had to teach me about myself and who I am, I can say that I am a happier and more grateful human being today because of Lennox.

Your life is only as good as you choose to make it. I believe that.