We Miss Our Sweet Lincoln 3/26/11 - 7/2/11

I haven't even finished writing the birth story of my Twinkies and I already have a death story to be told:o( If I had only known Saturday at about 2:00 a.m. my little Lincoln would nurse for the last time or at 5:30 a.m. he would drink his last bottle... If I would have known that that last week in our hot, hot house would be his last and my cuddling days with him were numbered... If I would have known he was only going to be with us two more days and family photos would never be taken... If I would have known that my sick kids wouldn't get to love on him ever again...

I woke up from my last night of sleep as a complete family to a frantic Mother-in-law screaming and running out of our bedroom after checking on the boys. My husband and I jumped out of bed as I glanced at the clock wondering what the commotion was all about... 8:30 a.m. kind of early to be playing so loudly with the kids... wait playing??? We ran out to the kitchen confused and shocked to see a lifeless little body in my mother-in-laws arms. I ran over and picked him up and said, "Bring him back! Can you bring him back?" I blew in his mouth and handed him to my husband. He tried mouth to mouth and some chest compressions while he yelled, "OH MY SON, OH MY PRECIOUS SON!!!" I don't even remember what happened after that till suddenly our house was brimming full of men in uniforms. "This can't be happening" I'm thinking the whole time, "he just ate 3 hours ago and he was fine!" The paramedic took him from us and said he was still a little warm, instantly there was hope, but deep down inside we knew... A man with a camera took pictures of his bed and asked questions about where he was laying, how he was sleeping, was he sick? when did he last eat? how was his last feeding? was he fussy? and millions of other questions. Then we were directed to go to the helicopter pad behind Hy-Vee and the whole way I just held on to that little bit of hope that he's "a little bit warm." Still in shock as we drove... We arrived at Hy-Vee, where behind the closed doors of the ambulance they worked long and hard on our 3 month old baby. They told us to head to the hospital while they flew him in the helicopter. We got in the car and it hit me hard, he's gone, I know he's gone. I broke down and cried the entire trip, wondering why? what could we have done differently? what will they tell us when we arrive at the hospital? We walked down the same foreboding hallway we had walked down once before (different story, different day) and were ushered into a room where nurses surrounded his bed and chaos was happening everywhere. They told us they had given him lots of medicine and had been doing chest compressions and oxygen for the last 45 minutes and he wasn't responding. They said they wanted to keep trying till we got there and that they would try everything one last time and if he didn't respond they would have to "call it." We heard, "Switching compressions *commotion* 13 cc's *commotion" They did some compressions and the doctor said, "I'm sorry we have to call it. NINE THIRTY EIGHT" People filed out of the room while we held each other and cried. Sweet, sweet Lincoln's body laying still. I rubbed his hand and touched his face trying to take in every single detail of that body I loved so much. The medical examiner arrived and they sent us out of the room while they took pictures. They called us back in to spend some time with him, to hold him, and to say "goodbye".

Today Lincoln's grandpa's laid his casket in his grave. Today I watched while my husband and my dad filled his grave one shovel load at a time. Today was our final goodbye.


TOUCHING MEMORIES OF LINCOLN
We loved the way Lincoln would make eye-contact with us when he was crying and he would follow us through his tears.
We loved the way his face lit up when we talked to him and how his focus was SO on us.
He loved to be talked to.
We loved his bright, happy eyes and his perky eyebrows.
We loved his snuggles. He loved to be held close and tight.
We loved how he enjoyed being in the carry pouch just to be close to us.
We loved hearing him talk to us and watching his nostrils flare as he mustered up his adorable coos.
We loved his chubby cheeks and how our lips would sink right into them.
We loved his little baby rolls and the feel of hugging his round little body.
We loved cuddling and snuggling with him in bed or burping him on our tummies in the middle of the night.
We loved how he would get so ferocious when he was hungry.
We loved the way he buried his face in our chest or shoulders when he was squawking and squirming for food.
We loved how he liked to suck on our pinkies that almost always made him happy, even more than the pacie.
We loved the dimples on his cheeks when he smiled and the dimple under his eye when he cried.
We loved the feel of his soft downy hair on our cheeks.
We loved his gorgeous deep-blue eyes that seemed to speak a thousand words, mostly happy ones!
We loved how he was so easy-going and the happiest of all whenever he was being snuggled.
We loved his voice as he would cry or the outbursts that sounded like “baw” - extremely pathetic like a bleating lamb.
We loved listening and watching as our Twinkies cried together in unison; they were so funny!
We loved rubbing ours noses with his and giving him Eskimo kisses.
We loved giving him a bath and having him smell so yummy afterwards.
We loved the strawberry mark on his forehead.
We loved how big his eyes got when it was time to eat.
We loved the way he always gazed at Judah when they laid beside each other.
We loved how he became a fighter while making it through such a hard birth, then to battle RSV while coming out victorious!
We loved having twins and we loved how we found out that we were going to have twins.
We loved the contrast from when Lincoln was the squirmy, wiggly one in the womb, but he was so laid back after he was born.
We loved the little beads of sweat on his forehead from crying so hard when it was so hot in our unairconditioned house.
We love to look long at his pictures while seeing all of his expressions and smiles.
We love viewing the pictures of the boys, always together from the first time they FINALLY met till the last day they were together.
We love that we can still look at Judah and get some glimpses of Lincoln.
We love how he has his big brother, Brody, who at three months resembled him so much,
which gives us an idea how he might have looked in the future.
We love and have loved our many precious friends praying for our Twinkies and us.
We love that he was the little-big brother, though born last he was larger than Judah.
We love how our loving God gave us two babies so we can still have one to hold, to love on, and to raise for the Lord.
We love knowing that God is sovereign, too great and wonderful to make any mistakes!
We love the comfort from knowing Christ and understanding that our Savior loves Lincoln even more than us.
We love opening our van door and looking back to see four precious faces who we love so much!
We love how Lincoln was God’s gift and so precious to enjoy for those three months.
We love knowing that we will definitely get to be with our Lincoln again one day.
We love knowing that our little Lincoln is now with Jesus. “Thank you, Jesus, for giving him to us!”
WHEN MEMORIES HURT
We will miss the attention the twins got from strangers while out and about.
We will miss Lincoln and Judah smiling and cooing together.
It is hard to hear Judah's cry become even more pathetic than before (yes, it is possible).
It was hard seeing Judah abnormally agitated the day after losing his twin brother.
We will miss the Twinkies tearful duets.
It hurts to have an extra hand or extra space on our laps, that we always seemed to need, but don’t want.
It hurts to see an empty car seat, and having no baby to fill that space.
It was hard taking off the sheets where Lincoln breathed his last breath.
Finding “spit-up” on our shirts that we put away and thought were clean.
It hurts moving on knowing the memories of Lincoln will begin to fade.
I will miss how crazy busy five kids made me while shopping.
Only having one baby to feed in the middle of the night (and THAT baby is SUPER SPECIAL)
It’s hard seeing two sets of clothes in the dresser, laundry and diaper bag.
It’s hard having to pack the diaper bag for only one baby.
It hurt to put together a video and a service, only to be pleased with our selections and choices.
It was hard to explain to April and Chloe why they will not see Lincoln anymore.
It’s hard thinking of how Judah will grow up while Lincoln’s pictures remain the same.
We regret that we don’t have a single family picture of all seven of us.
It hurt so much to pick out Lincoln’s clothes for the funeral and a casket that is way to small.
It is painful to see the loneliness of little Judah because of losing his best friend.
The boys won’t be jostled around bonking heads while we settle down with two babies at once.
It’s hard putting Judah to bed and worrying, but knowing that he is also in God’s hands.
It’s hard to think of getting family pictures without Lincoln and not having any more pictures of our Twinkies together.
Pain was to hand him over to the coroner.
Pain was to pick out the flowers for his funeral.
Pain is to read our baby’s own obituary in the paper.
Pain is to open a letter and reading, “Death Certificate.”
Pain is an autopsy report.
Pain is to see a date chiseled onto his tombstone.
Pain is to follow his little casket through the church.
Pain is to follow a Hearse for his final ride.
Pain is to sense such finality while his Grandpa's lowered his little casket into the ground and to say goodbye.
Pain is watching his Papa fill his grave with dirt.
Pain is to think that we weren't there to rescue you, Linc, when you maybe felt so alone, maybe afraid.
But we are comforted to know that his best friend, Judah WAS there, and that JESUS was there too!
Isa 35:10
“And the ransomed of the LORD will return and come with joyful shouting to Zion, with everlasting joy upon their heads. They will find gladness and joy, and sorrow and sighing will flee away.”