Several years ago, Summer journaled the story of her son. With her permission, I am weaving into this post some of what she has written so beautifully.
"Six years ago [now 17], you made me a mommy. Your daddy & I had just celebrated our first wedding anniversary exactly one month before. One moment we were newlyweds, the next we were parents. When you were born, it was the first and only time we both have cried tears of happiness. We didn’t even see it coming - we went from being so focused on your birth, and then the moment you came out it was like a dam burst open, and tears just started flowing. We laughed in spite of ourselves. I remember your daddy telling me that when he saw you being born, it was like he died and was born all over again. Your younger siblings' births were incredible, too - but there was something extra special about yours. After 9 months of grieving over your Aunt Heidi, your birth brought us fresh hope - a reminder that even though we exprience great loss, there is the promise of new life."
Henry Matthew's birth - celebrated with tears and laughter. Healing being found in the face of the devastating loss of a sister. But Henry's story was just beginning. Summer chose to write her recollections of this time, his journey, "Choosing to remember the memories that forever changed me for the better. Because these are the moments that gave your brief life great purpose."
Henry was born with a heart defect. He would undergo 2 procedures - the first within hours of his birth. Here again are Summer's words.
"I remember Matt wheeling me out of the NICU, and my heart felt like it was torn in two. I remember sobbing to Matt “What if that was the last time I see my baby alive?” It was at this moment that I knew that if given the chance, I would die for you. It gave me the tiniest glimpse into our heavenly Father’s love. Love that would give up everything for His beloved.
Walking alongside your bed on your way into your second open heart surgery. I remember you just staring at me with your deep brown eyes - you were wide awake and I am so thankful I had those last moments with you. It was the last time that you were full conscious. In the elevator, your eyes were locked on mine, and when we got to the surgery floor, they wheeled you off the elevator, and your daddy and I had to stay and go back down. I remember hugging your daddy as the elevator door closed and telling him that the Lord had just given me an overwhelming peace. It was unexplainable, because I knew the odds were poor - yet He had taken away all fear and just poured His peace upon my heart. So many gifts given in just that one moment."
Perhaps you see why I've named this piece "Steadfast Love". Henry's parents' love never wavered. And they held tight to the love of their Father.
“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”
Lamentations 3:22-23
Henry never regained full consciousness after the 2nd heart surgery. Summer talks about this evening with a resonating grace:
“While your daddy and I rocked you all the way into your Savior’s arms, it was just too unbearably painful for us to rock you for very long after you died . . . so your nurses stepped in and took turns rocking you until the funeral home came. I’ll never forget the last look I took of your hospital room as we walked away - one of your nurses was holding you in her arms - this same nurse that many years before, lost her own baby - rocking you, her face wet with tears. What a hard thing for her to do, but she did it for me because in my weakness I could not. I will never forget that sacrifice.”
“Praise God for your two and half months . . . .I love you, my first-born, my baby boy, my heart’s deepest yearning!"
It has been an honor to create this resin on canvas based on hydrangeas - the flower they associate with Henry Matthew. Summer chose green, turquoise, and gold for me to incorporate. It will hang on their wall for years to come in celebration of the life of Henry Matthew.
