It was Christmas Day, 2017, and we had just finished having Christmas dinner. We, my middle son Michael, my youngest son Eli, Brenda, and I had already opened presents earlier in the day, but there was an uneasiness in each of us.
Reggie Jr. was not there, and his absence was the white elephant in the room. It was the first Christmas for each of us without his presence and, to be honest, we all felt a sense of trepidation. Was he alright? Was he in jail? It wasn’t unusual for Reggie to not come home, but he would generally call, even if he had to borrow a phone from a stranger (his phone was busted, and he had to wait until January 1st for his insurance to kick-in for a new one).
You can’t call anyone on Christmas Day. Everything is closed. So bright and early the next morning, I called the Harris County police department and filed a missing person report. A detective stopped by our house at 11:00 AM. He took all the pertinent information and said he would get back to us ASAP. As we were preparing for bed that night, the doorbell rang.
I wonder what would have happened if I’d never answered it, as if that would change the outcome.
The detectives asked if a Franklin Reginald Walters lived at this address. I answered yes – hope springs eternal – and invited them into the house. “I regret to inform you,” He began, “We found Reggie near a trash dumpster,” his addictions had gained a temporal victory over him. I’m not sure what else the detective said, but I did have the presence of mind to ask for a number I could call in the morning.
When your heart and soul and spirit have been shaken like this (when a such a deep bond has been severed), for a time, sort of like the chicken with its head cut off, you flounder around not realizing or totally comprehending that there is no longer a connection.
Where do you turn?
I found that connection in the WORD of God. In Isaiah, the 6th Chapter, the Word says:
In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple. (ESV)
Several sources indicate that Isaiah had a close connection with King Uzziah, perhaps he was the King’s scribe, and the King’s death had a strong effect on the prophet.
The LORD brought to my remembrance that in the last couple of months of his life, Reggie never missed church. In fact, when Brenda and I would prepare to leave in the morning, Reggie would be waiting and ready to go (he lived with us the last year or so of his life). The LORD showed me how he struggled with his addiction (two trips to rehab in two years). The LORD showed me again of his deep love for me, his mom, and his brothers. Rummaging through paperwork from his rehabilitation, I came across a question the instructors had asked of the participants: “What has your addiction cost you?”
His answer? – A great relationship with my Dad
It still makes me teary just to think of that.
I know how much Reggie loved the LORD. I baptized him when he was eight years old. Did he have struggles in his walk? Of course, he did. We all do. But he never stopped believing, and on the last day he attended church (December 19th) he left this prayer request (which Pastor Omar gave to me):
“Please pray that I would have wisdom in what future steps I should take in my life.”
So, in the year that Reggie died, I saw the LORD. Oh, I had known him for many years, but not to the level that I know him now.
When I was in college, my mom planned to come and visit me. It was a seven- hundred-mile drive from Gary, Indiana to Tulsa, Oklahoma, but her baby was in Oklahoma, and she wanted to see him. Well, Reggie is in heaven, and I plan to see him (that’s why I said the victory over him was temporal). And just like my mom who read all she could about Oklahoma, kept an eye on the weather there, mapped the route she would take to get there because that was her planned destination, I am learning about my destination, where Reggie and my mom are waiting.
By faith [Abraham] went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God.
Many years ago, my husband and I decided that we were ready to become parents. We were filled with so much hope, excitement, and love for a future with children. When we started that process, we never expected for it to be as difficult as it was. Months of trying to get pregnant turned into years of trying to get pregnant. Then miraculously, after two and a half years of infertility, we became pregnant! Nine months later, we welcomed our daughter, Lauren, into the world! It was one of the best days of our lives!
When Lauren turned two, we couldn’t get rid of this feeling that our family felt incomplete. That desire to raise another child slowly consumed our hearts. So, we made the decision to start trying for baby number. Unfortunately, months of trying to get pregnant quickly turned into years again. Then one day, out of the blue, the world of infertility came crashing down on us as we began to finally get some answers. It wasn’t good news. We were told by our OBGYN that we would never be able to get pregnant again…ever. When we heard this news, our world shattered. This was not our plan for our family. Our goals and dreams and plans for becoming parents did not seem to line up with God’s plans for us. We began to grieve the life we were never going to have.
We didn’t like or understand God’s plans for us, but we tried the best we could to trust Him. It took us quite a while to grieve our hopes and dreams of having two children biologically. But in January of 2018, we made a conscious decision to be grateful. We realized that God had blessed us with one amazing, little girl. We realized that we would never be a family of four, but we were a family of three, and for that we were thankful. We decided that it was time for us to find joy again in life. We were just starting to heal and beginning to really enjoy life again when the unimaginable happened.
On the evening of March 19th, 2018, my parents agreed to pick Lauren up from preschool and let her spend the night with them at their house. She was so excited! Little did we know, at that time, that she would never step foot back into our house again.
In the early afternoon on Tuesday, March 20th, 2018, I drove to my parent’s house to pick up Lauren. As I swung open the door, I heard the pitter-patter of little feet pounding on the floor as Lauren ran over to see me. She immediately jumped into my arms, and yelled, “Mommy! I love you, Mommy!!” Her hug and her love felt so amazing! She talked about how she missed me and how she was so glad I was there to get her. Of course, I didn’t realize that this moment would be the very last interaction I would ever have with her. And I definitely didn’t expect it to be the last time I would ever hear her say, “I love you”.
Shortly after I arrived, Lauren asked me if she could go outside and play on the swing set while I talked to my mom. She loved to play outside at grandma and grandpa’s house. It was one of her favorite places. Before I knew it, she was out the door and climbing around all over the place.
My mom and I sat in her kitchen, smiling with joy, while we kept a close eye on her. Lauren’s imagination was in overdrive that afternoon as she talked to the birds in the trees. She was doing what she loved. She was playing, and she was having a blast. She was in love!
What happened next all feels like a huge blur. It is the part of our story that is still hard for us to talk about. While playing and climbing on the swing set, Lauren got herself caught. She ended up accidentally hanging herself. My mom and I immediately rushed out to get her. A moment later, when we got to her, the tears began to flow as we held her lifeless and unresponsive body in our arms.
We immediately started CPR and called 911. As we waited for the paramedics and police to arrive, I remember frantically praying to God to save my little girl, all while having a sense that this wasn’t going to turn out the way I wanted it to. I just kept praying and praying and praying. I kept thinking, “Surely God won’t allow anything bad to happen to her.” A few minutes later the paramedic, police, and fire departments all arrived. I remember them pushing me out of the way so they could take over. I tried to stand up and I couldn’t even stand. I collapsed into a heap on the grass. I knew this was bad, really bad. The tears started flowing even more as I cried uncontrollably. I only looked up because a policeman asked me if he could talk to me. The only words that I could manage to get out of my mouth at that moment were, “Is she going to be alright?” His lack of response only confirmed what my gut was telling me.
The paramedics rushed her to the emergency room. My husband met us at the hospital. When we arrived, there were close to 50 medical people in the area. Every one of them was frantically working to save our little girl. We could see the looks on their faces; our hearts already knew that she was with Jesus. Eventually, the doctors walked out of the emergency room with a look on their face. We were bracing for the words that we knew were coming; the words that would forever change our lives. “I’m sorry Mr. and Mrs. Clark. We have done everything that we can to save Lauren. There is nothing else that we can do. As a team, we have made the decision to stop working on her. Her time of death is 2:24 pm.”
We later learned that she most likely died as soon as the accident occur. The doctors told us that it was most likely instantaneous. The paramedics and doctors worked on her for 42 minutes, even though they knew she was gone, in hopes of a miracle. But that day there was no miracle. God did not answer our prayers. Our only child, Lauren, died at the age of five and a half. One moment she was smiling here on earth, and the next moment she was smiling in the arms of God. She walked through the gates of Heaven while doing one of her absolute favorite things…playing
That afternoon our world came to a screeching halt. The “it would never happen to us” happened to us. In those moments after, our lives truly came crashing down. Our hearts shattered into a zillion, little pieces. Our faith crumbled right in front of us. In that moment, nothing in life made any sense. After years upon years of infertility, and no ability to have more children, losing Lauren felt so unfair. Sitting in the hospital room that evening, we were mad. We were so angry. I wish I could tell you that we got down on our knees and prayed or that we had a moment of peace that surpasses all understanding. But we didn’t. Instead we screamed at God. We yelled at him. Our only child was gone, and there was no hope for having any more children. God could have saved Lauren that day, but he didn’t. And for that, we were ready to turn our backs on him.
Thankfully, we never did. Our community of friends, church members, and family members gathered around us to celebrate sweet Lauren and her life. They stood with us when we barely had enough strength to stand. They rallied around us as we walked through the darkest days of our lives. Night and day, they loved us and supported us as we tried to make sense of the impossible. They spoke the truth to us of what the Bible says, even if we didn’t want to hear it. They refused to let us fail. They refused to let us fall. They refused to let us walk away from our faith. Because of our community, we never lost our faith. It crumbled. But with time, prayer, and lots of love, we were able to start rebuilding it.
In the months after Lauren passed away, we struggled with the impossible task that most grieving parents have to face. We had to create Lauren’s tombstone. As we designed the tombstone, it was important for us to have a Bible verse on it. We struggled to find the “right” Bible verse that described our sweet, little girl in the midst of this horrible situation.
After searching for what seemed like forever, we found it. Ephesians 5:2 – “Live a life filled with love.” That was it! That was Lauren! In her short five and a half years, Lauren loved so well, and she loved so unconditionally! She loved others, she loved God, and she loved life! She truly lived a life filled with love! Little did we know at the time, that this verse would become one part of the foundation we would stand upon as we grieved the loss of Lauren. It quickly became the inspiration we needed to see beyond the grief and begin to live life again.
We started praying and asking God to show us how to love others just like Lauren did. She showed us what it meant to truly love unconditionally. She loved people but even more she loved to make people feel special. She loved to make people laugh. She loved life and taught us the value of what is truly important in life. She loved her goals and dreams and never gave up on them. She loved God and embodied what true child-like faith looked like. She loved her family and friends and reminded us daily that they are the most important. We were inspired and determined to love others the way that she did; the way that God wants us to love others. We prayed that we could begin to live a life filled with love again. We prayed and asked that God would show us how we could help Him turn these ashes into beauty. We prayed for healing. And we prayed for God’s love to shine.
It didn’t take long for God to begin to answer these prayers. God had bigger and better plans to love people than we could’ve ever imagined. We created a group called, “Lauren’s Love”. Our goal and mission with the “Lauren’s Love” group is pretty simple. It is to trust God and spread love, kindness, and joy to others, just like Lauren did. Through Lauren’s Love, and with God’s love, we have been able to share a lot of love and kindness to people over the past two and a half years. We collected and donated 180 toys and sent them to two local organizations who were in desperate need of toys. We sent over 150 shoeboxes to children in need across the world through Operation Christmas Child. We were able to raise money and set up a scholarship fund at her preschool, so children in need are able to attend the preschool that she loved so much. We adopted and supported two local families at Christmas time by collecting much needed items and toys for them. We raised money that allowed children to attend summer camp and participate in swim lessons at our local YMCA where Lauren swam and camped all the time. We made the decision to allow Lauren to be an organ donor and helped give the gift of life to several children around the country. And we created a rock painting group that paints and leaves rocks for people to find that have encouraging and loving notes on them. So far thousands of rocks of encouragement and love have been found in all 50 states and over 25 countries. In wanting to share Lauren’s Love with others, God helped us do many amazing things!
Along our journey of loving others with Lauren’s Love, something else began to happen. We finally started the process of really healing. We finally allowed ourselves to really grieve. We began the process of growing and rebuilding. We realized that helping others and loving others, helped us heal, grieve, and rebuild from the pain of losing Lauren. Lauren’s Love helped us see past the grief and allowed us to begin to live a life filled with love again. With the help and support of our community, the love of God, and the ability to love others through Lauren’s Love, we are beginning to find joy again in our lives!
Recently, God did something else amazing and loving for us. He blessed us with the greatest gift; one that we weren’t sure we would ever have again after Lauren died. In January of 2020, we adopted our daughter, Molly! Today, she is a beautiful, healthy, happy, and loving 7-month-old! For the past two years, we have prayed and hoped that we would have the ability to be parents and love another child again. We knew in our hearts that we still had so much love to give. We also knew that if it was God’s will for us to be parents again, we were going to have to adopt. We knew that if we were going to be parents again, we were going to have to be patient and wait until it was the right time; until it was God’s time for us to adopt. The wait was agonizing, but a year-and-a-half ago, God started to lay the idea of adoption on our hearts. There were many ups and downs throughout our adoption journey. It was not an easy road to walk, but with faith and trust, God led us to our sweet and precious girl! God turned the ashes of Lauren’s death into true beauty; in a way that only He could. We are so grateful and thankful for Molly; God’s precious gift to us!
Throughout the past 2 ½ years, we have realized that the more we focused on the “how,” the less the “why” seemed to matter. Like any grieving parent, it was easy for us to be filled with anger and ask the question of “why?”. But we have also learned to ask another important question. And that is the question of “how?”. By asking “how”, God is showing us His love and promises. By asking “how”, God is helping us spread Lauren’s love and His love to so many people. By asking “how”, God is turning the ashes of this tragedy into true beauty. By asking “how”, God is showing us that He is sovereign all the time. And by asking “how”, we are learning how to once again live a life filled with love.
The path we have walked over the past two years has been brutal and filled with a lot of sorrow. But it has also shown us how beautiful life is, and that God doesn’t want us stuck in our grief. As we have begun to live life again, we have learned so much.
We have learned that tragedy and suffering will occur, but God will redeem it and use it to help ourselves and others, if we allow Him to.
While walking this difficult journey, we have seen God’s love for us, for our daughters, and for others shown over and over again.
We have seen others spread love and grow closer in their relationship with Jesus because of this tragedy.
We have learned that we have to rely on God, and his love, in order to get through the tough times.
We have learned that He is always with us, even when it doesn’t feel like it.
We have learned that God is always good, and that He is sovereign, and that He has more love and grace for us than we can ever imagine.
We have learned that we all have the ability to love others unconditionally, no matter how old we are.
And we have learned that He wants us to live life, and that life is better when it is filled with love.
It is all the result of one little girl who chose to love so well and implanted herself into the hearts of so many. Lauren truly was a special girl. She had an amazing ability to love people and create meaningful relationships. Just one conversation with Lauren, and you were hooked on her with her contagious spirit, love, and passion for others. She truly made everyone feel like the most important and special person to her. Her passing has left a massive hole in all of our hearts; one that will never be whole again. But every day we force ourselves to keep moving forward as we love life, love God, and love others because that’s what Lauren would want. That’s how Lauren would live life.
Hope is a four letter word that we never thought we would be able to say again after losing our 2 ½ year old son, Rowen on November 20, 2018. Rowen Eugene Halferty was our first child. While living and working as missionaries in Papua New Guinea we found out we were pregnant and we were so excited. We decided to come home to have our little boy surrounded by our family. We were so excited to be parents, and even though we never got a chance to return overseas because Rowen had seizures after a traumatic birth, but we were okay with God moving us on a different path.
Rowen grew into was an amazing, healthy little boy that loved trucks, and he especially loved to help daddy “build” things. Everyone loved his curly blonde hair and his big blue eyes and his laugh was infectious. Our little family was perfect, and growing as I found out that I was expecting his baby brother, who Rowen affectionately named “Bobby” (I’m sure after his favorite cartoon, “Bob the Builder”). He was even due to have the same birthday as Rowen!
Then out of nowhere Rowen developed a cold. Since it was right before Thanksgiving I decided to take him to the doctor. He seemed fine at the office so they sent us home just saying that he had a minor cold and to take some Tylenol. That night he didn’t want to eat much so I fixed him his favorite meal of spaghetti and then gave him a bath and he fell asleep in Evan’s arms. I got up in the middle of the night to check on him, and he seemed fine, lying on his cot on the floor next to his big boy bed that he still wasn’t quite used to. That morning as Evan was getting up to go to work he felt like God was telling him to go check on Rowen. He found him not breathing…Rowen had gone to heaven. Evan screamed my name and I woke up from a deep sleep knowing something was terribly wrong. We were in shock. I called 911 while Evan attempted CPR but it was too late. The paramedics showed up and we saw they carry his lifeless body to the ambulance. The world stopped as they yelled “DOA” across our front yard. Upon meeting the paramedics at the ER, they confirmed that there was nothing more they could do. They let us stay at the hospital for hours as family and friends trickled into the ER. People from our church lined the halls of the ER, so much so that they had to move them into the chapel upstairs. Leaving the hospital was one of the hardest things we ever had to do. I struggled just to survive without him, and my body physically hurt without him. Basic tasks, like eating and sleeping became so hard. I was angry at God and didn’t understand why he would take my beautiful boy away from me.
The way that our family and friends surrounded us after his death was amazing. They helped us plan a celebration of life that even included a real fire truck that our pastor had parked outside of the church, which was one of his favorite toys. With every little detail we saw how God was still there, from picking out the cemetery that “happened” to be taken care of by a friend, to people literally paying for the entire funeral for us, and supplying us meals for months afterwards. At first we felt so alone, like no one understood the loss that we had gone through. But through going to a retreat with Hope Family Care we found other families that had lost a child and we began to realize that we were not alone in our grief. Through our anger and grief HFC reminded us that there was only one person in the world that could give us HOPE again, and that was Jesus. The hope that someday we will see Rowen again in heaven where we will live out our days as a complete family again is the only thing that keeps us moving forward. Jesus reminds us in Isaiah 43 that he “will do something new” and as we’ve been on this journey through loss he has given us a heart to reach out to other families that have lost. We feel as though God is doing something new through Rowen’s death and showing us new ways that we can help others.
Bobby was born just 5 months after Rowen went to heaven. They are so much alike in so many ways and we are constantly telling him about his Bubba. He brings us joy that we never thought that we would have again. Rowen lived 919 days on this earth and even though it was way too short of a time, we are so thankful to have been his parents.
It was a rainy, cold day on Friday, November 12, 2004. A blue star hung from our window in the front of the house to show the neighbors my brother, Morgan was off at war. I passed that star many times and never really stopped to look at it. I had just walked into the house from working when I saw my mom bringing in groceries. She excitedly told me about the Hickory Farms gift set she bought Morgan to send him for Thanksgiving. She told me it would be great for my boyfriend too, since he was also in Iraq.
A few minutes later the phone rang. She paused before picking it up, I could see from the caller ID that it was my dad. They were divorced and now that all the kids were grown there was not much left for them to call each other about. Expect for one thing…Morgan. She knew when she answered the phone what he would say but I did not. I watched as she collapsed to the couch catching herself on the coffee table and moaning in a way I had never heard. I sat on the stairs across from her and watched as she struggled to hold the phone out to me. My life had just changed with one phone call.
Jessica and her brother Morgan
I stood and grabbed the phone my dad told me that Morgan had been killed and I needed to take care of my mother. The weight of that responsibility sat heavily on my shoulders as I began to cry and grieve myself. I was the last child of her five to still be at home. I was the only one close enough to be able to care for my mom.
The next few days came and went as we drove from Virginia to Indiana to Tennessee. We had memorial services for him and many people we had not seen in a long time came by to pay their respects to the fallen hero. We finally made it to Tennessee where we would wait for Morgan to arrive and do the funeral and burial.
My parents picked Tennessee because my grandparents lived there and it was Morgan’s favorite place to go. He and my grandfather were best friends and they would hike the mountains there frequently. When I walked into my grandparent’s house, my grandfather stood up to greet me but quickly fell back onto the couch. I had never seen a broken man until that day, he was broken. My grandmother quickly came over to me with her apron on. She cried while hugging me saying, “I just can’t believe it.” Then she rushed right back into the kitchen. I was surprised to see her so, calm and focused.
Once the burial was over and it was time for all of us to go back to our lives I realized how hard that would really be. My mother, like my grandmother actually seemed okay. Not happy but okay. I had been so distracted trying to care and tend to my mom that I forgot about me. My boyfriend (whom I would later marry) would call me and ask how I was doing. I was too afraid to tell him the truth because he was still in Iraq. I did not want him to worry about me or think I was a depressing girlfriend to be around.
When I went back to college classes for the first time, I sat alone in the cafeteria and watched as everyone went about their business. In that moment I wanted to scream at them, “Do you not know what just happened?! My brother died!” But I did not say anything. As the months went on I tried to find a way to bring every conversation I had with people to Morgan. It started to get weird. So then I flipped to the other side. I would not talk about him at all with anyone except close family members. I did that for a few years. I kept praying how to handle my grief with others. People do not like to talk about grief. When I did talk about it they just would not know what to say. God kept comforting my heart and telling me it was okay. I trusted that God had a plan and that He was there for me.
God blessed me with grandparents that were completely devoted to Him. Every summer my siblings and I would visit them and they would make sure we were in Vacation Bible School and in church every Sunday. I can still hear my grandmother’s voice singing hymns and I carry those songs in my heart. Almost 16 years later I can see how He was training me for this battle of grief. He placed people in my life to go through this journey with me. Whenever I strayed He was there waiting for me to come back to Him. The weapons He equipped me with when I was young are what He wanted me to use today.
Psalm 144:1 Blessed be the Lord, my rock, who trains my hands for war, and my fingers for battle…
In April of 2016, my husband Brandon and I were absolutely honored to learn that we were pregnant with our fourth child. Having three girls at the time: Maci 7, Mayla 6, and Mavery almost three; we truly wondered if we would actually have a boy. On July 26, we had our 20 week anatomy scan to check that our “baby was healthy”. In fact, I said those exact words to our ultrasound tech when she asked if we were finding out the gender, “we don’t want to know the gender, just tell us it’s a healthy baby.” We had brought the girls with us so they could see the wonders of a baby in Mommy’s belly. After the scan we were to meet with the doctor. Once we were in the room a nurse came in and asked our girls if they wanted to go and get some stickers. My heart dropped as I knew something was wrong. Our doctor came in and she confirmed that there in deed was something wrong. At this point we were not able to know exactly what was wrong with our sweet baby, who we found out was a boy, but we knew that we were going to take every step necessary to find out. After more ultrasounds, a doctor who attempted to take away our hope for our son’s life, and trips out of state, we learned that our son had bladder outlet obstruction which was causing his body to collect all of the amniotic fluid I needed while carrying him. Learning this began our journey of doing what we could to enhance his life for as long as I carried him and after. I underwent two utero procedures: the first one included a procedure that removed all fluid from within our son’s kidneys as well as a procedure that allowed the doctors to replace my amniotic fluid with saline to allow our son to continue strengthening his lungs in the womb. The second procedure performed a week after the first, was an opportunity for the amazing doctors to place a shunt through myself into our son’s kidneys so that his body could release the fluids he needed to continue to gain lung strength. Throughout these few weeks, God was not only allowing medical procedures to happen, but he called our hearts in this time to Hebrews 6:19 “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure”. With this truth in God we began surrounding ourselves with anchors to remember who we are carried by. He grew such an earthly hope in our hearts that allowed us to seek him daily and when we just couldn’t see, He shined his truth with anchors whether on the necklace of the hotel staff or the only open restaurant the night before our procedure that was called “The Anchor Grille”.
Just a few days after our second in utero procedure, I was devastated to discover that my water had broken at 25wk2d. I was immediately admitted to the hospital and began every intervention possible to keep my body from delivering. Over the next three days we found ourselves fighting for our son’s life as we answered questions of doctors for post birth. The answer was always “yes we want to do everything possible to save him.” It was just three days later that God’s due date for our son was here. On September 5, 2016, our son Brogan James was born at 25wk5d weighing 2lb10oz. I will never forget how each part of laboring carried great fear for the unknown and then in his delivery, God surrounded me with the most perfect unexpected peace of his plan for Brogan’s life.
Over the next two weeks we were able to be Brogan’s family while he was beautifully cared for in the NICU. Our girls were able to meet their brother, read to him, touch him, sing to him, and so much more while we as his parents were able to be by his side every day doing hands on care, holding him skin to skin, and letting him hear our voices. After two weeks of witnessing Brogan defy odds, growing relationships with nurses, and sharing with so many God’s promises as they discovered our anchors all around, our lives were going to change forever. Our constant prayer had been asking God to show us through Brogan our next steps medically and on Monday, September 19, things for Brogan had changed. We were called to make the decision to have his ventilator tube removed and endure the process of saying goodbye to our son. We chose that day to have one more “safe hold” by keeping his tube in until it was absolutely time. Then, when Brogan’s tube was removed we were given some of the greatest gifts, an opportunity to see life shine in him in a way we had not seen. We saw his eye for the first time, heard his voice constantly coo, and felt him nuzzle as much skin as he could get to. As his sweet voice slowed, he took his last breath, and then many moments later his heart stopped beating. This moment was the worst moment for our earthly future and the most peaceful for that present time. There was a presence of peace and healing and we knew that our son was no longer sick or in pain.
We spent the next 24 hours holding onto our son (I remember being so possessive over his body), sharing the news with our girls, and discovering all of our next steps. Taking the next steps after Brogan died feel like such a blur as we made decisions that we never imagined we would have to: what funeral home did we want to pick him up, what is our preferred cemetery, what clothes will we leave him with and which do we want to keep for us. All of these decisions were made before we even left the hospital, another step we didn’t want to take. We had left that hospital three times before carrying our girls in our arms and this time our arms would be empty. After walking into our home empty handed we found ourselves planning a funeral service that we wanted to be small and intimate, yet wanted to make sure it was enough to honor Brogan’s life. We began the journey of walking grief not only within our own hearts but with the hearts of our girls, each in very different ways. So many next steps were being taken while I was struggling to figure out how to even take steps in this new role for me in our home.
God has remained greater than our fears through each step of our journey. It was only nine months after Brogan died that we shockingly discovered that we were going to have another baby. This was a space where God prevailed and rose above my fear as I, for the first time in my motherhood, did not want to be pregnant. Instead of feeling overwhelmingly honored, I was afraid, instead of praying for a healthy baby, I prayed he or she would not die. Then God revealed to us that we were having a set of baby girl twins and his love reigned over any fear that the enemy was trying to use against me. Walking this new pregnancy, delivery, and NICU stay opened up spaces that God had set aside to produce healing in my heart through the life and care of Brogan’s baby sisters. Magnolia Grace and Mosley Faith were born just 15 months after Brogan. Their personalities bring an amazing sense of calm love that reminds us daily to accept grace for ourselves as we build our lives in faith. I say often “God knew my Mama heart needed something big to walk these days” and it is with their lives that my smile, ability to open my heart to love, and physical purpose have slowly come back to me.
We will never understand why Brogan’s life was called to be so short, but we will praise God that he chose us to be his family. Each seed of hope that God planted during Brogan’s life is allowing us to walk today as we live out what was once our greatest fear, life without our child and surviving it. Our hope has been given the gift to transform from what was once an earthly hope into a heavenly hope full of God’s eternal gifts. God wrote 14 days for Brogan’s life, a number much smaller than we would have chosen, but his days were big and full of purpose. Our days on earth continue to be counted so our hearts cling to God, the one who carries us: “You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed,” Psalm 139:16. We will call on him to reveal his purpose for us and to show us who he wants us to be and it is our hope to do so with our love for Jesus and Brogan’s life at the front of it.
Have Hope. Extend Grace. Walk by Faith.
Brandon’s Story:
Our story begins in the spring of 2006. Sitting across from our pastor during pre-marital counseling, he asks, “Do you guys want to have kids?” “Yes, we both answer” “How many” he asks. I said “two sounds good to me”. She says “I figured at least 6”.
Fast-forward 10 years and 3 daughters later to the spring of 2016. After our three daughters are down for the night, Missi approaches me with that look on her face. “We’re pregnant” she says. I already knew, as I had previously, just by the feels that she puts out when that gift inside of her begins. We were on our way to #4. Early pregnancy seemed pretty normal. We were accustomed to this, so we knew what to expect. Approaching our 20-week ultrasound, we decided that this time, we’d keep the gender a secret, even we wanted to be surprised. We decided to take our girls to the appointment; after all they were nearly as excited as we were. The ultrasound tech seemed pretty emotionless during the appointment. A little strange, but who knows, maybe she’s just going through the motions, she does do this all day long. After the ultrasound, we waited for the OB in an exam room. As the door opened, the nurse spoke not to us, but to the girls, asking them if they’d like to go with her to do some stickers. It was that moment that I was overcome with fear, the fear that starts in your ears, as they become hot, moving down my throat as it feels like it’s being squeezed from the inside, and then into my chest. What is happening? By this time, the OB is in the room, Missi in tears. “This isn’t good, is it?” Missi asks. “No, it’s not” the OB responded. There were abnormalities that showed up in the ultrasound. Concerns of our baby’s heart, vital organs, and nearly no amniotic fluid were areas of concern. What does all this mean? These were answers that our OB could not give us. Our next step was to visit Maternal Fetal for more scanning and diagnosis. Days later, we were able to visit Maternal Fetal, and it was determined that our baby, our son, had Bladder Outlet Obstruction, a condition where a blockage in the bladder causes the kidneys to not drain, and thus causes kidney damage. Additionally, since fluid cannot pass from the kidneys to the bladder, it cannot pass into the amniotic sac. This will lead to poor lung development.
The consultation with the Maternal Fetal doctor proved to us, that our fight, our hope, was not going to be with this doctor. We were then referred to Maternal Fetal in Cincinnati at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital. There they have specialists that have seen and managed this condition. Our journey with Cincinnati Children’s began with consultation, followed by thorough testing and ultrasounds, but not before God confirmed that we were in the right place. As our journey began and just after our initial ultrasound, Hebrews 6:19 served as a foundation for our journey. “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.” As we checked into our hotel for our first stay in Cincinnati, we were greeted by a hotel cashier wearing an anchor necklace. This was the first bit of peace we received from God. The following week, our first step was to undergo a procedure to inject fluid into the amniotic sac to strengthen our son’s lungs. This procedure and this trip was a success. The next trip to Cincinnati was designed to place a shunt into our son’s kidney, which would allow fluid to bypass the blockage and drain into the amniotic sac. This would help the kidneys, as well as support lung development since the fluid would now be circulating as designed. This procedure was met with more anxiety, as it was a bit more involved. Doctors would enter our son’s kidney, through my wife’s stomach, and install a shunt. This was a time of significant prayer, and significant faith for us. During these times, God pulled us together through prayer and total dependence on Him. As the nerves built the night before the procedure, so did Missi’s appetite (remember she was pregnant). A late night craving, in an unfamiliar place warranted a call to the hotel front desk. The craving was pancakes. As we asked for suggestions from the front desk, we could hear them brainstorming amongst themselves what options existed. As the employee returned to the phone, she said that the only place that was likely open at this time of night is a small 24 hour restaurant called The Anchor Grill. Yes, The Anchor Grill. We of course followed this suggestion and dined late night surrounded by anchors: on the menus, on the walls, on the napkins. God’s love surrounded us.
The next morning, we followed through with the procedure, and the procedure was a success. When the doctor was complete, he updated me on Missi, and baby, and explained more of the detail of this step. As he described the shunt, he described the shape, and the function, and compared the shape to a corkscrew. Out of curiosity, I asked him about why the shunt was designed like it was. He responded by saying that the corkscrew design allows the shunt to Anchor into the kidney and stay in place. Another gift from God and peace provided to us that we were following His plan. The trip home was a good one. We both were at peace with the decisions we had made, and were confident that we were fighting for our son and giving him opportunities to fight through these complications.
The next week started as normal as our new normal was. Missi on bed rest, home with the girls, and me back to work. This was a trying time, but we pulled together and made it work. Days later, we were met with an unexpected change. I received a call at work from Missi, stating that she believed her water had broken. We were just over 25 weeks. As we settled into the hospital, nurses confirmed that, in fact, Missi’s water had broken. Not only did they confirm this, but also that the fluid was amniotic fluid. The shunt was working. The next days were long, trying days, with the goal to keep Missi pregnant as long as possible. During this time, God’s strength carried us through. Then, on September 5, at 25 weeks and 5 days, our son, Brogan entered this world. Brogan was immediately cared for at delivery, and moved to the NICU. A few hours later, we met our son. What a perfect gift from God. Along with Brogan, we met his primary nurse, and one of his doctors. This would be our world now. We were so happy to be looking at our son.
Brogan was cared for by an amazing team of nurses, doctors, and RT’s. One of our biggest fears, Brogans lungs, were stronger than expected, and continued to grow. Brogan was loved on by his proud big sisters as they talked to him, held his hand, and read to him. Our prayer during this time was that we would fight for Brogan, and we would do “for him”, not “to him”. We wanted to give Brogan every opportunity to fight. As we approached Brogan’s two week birthday, we began to see some declining signs. Brogan began to lose strength due to infection caused by a bowel perforation. This is a condition that would normally require emergency surgery; however, this was not an option for us. As a doctor commented on how remarkable Brogan had been doing, we knew that our prayers would be changing. This was something that we were told by a close friend during our journey. There may come a time when your prayers change. Not abandoned, but changed. That night, September 19th, would be the night that Brogan would meet Jesus.
The next days, weeks, and months were full of significant grief, questions, and sadness. What do we do? How do we move forward? How do I lead my family? All answers that only come with time. Each of us grieves differently, but God continues to lead us, as a family, forward.
The thought of more children was not anything we had the courage to discuss, a topic that had formerly been a regular one. Fear now outweighed the joy in this topic, and it was not one that we could discuss alone, without God. About 9 months later, we didn’t have to bring up this topic. We discovered that unexpectedly, we were pregnant. What was God planning? As we started down the path of this news, an ultrasound was scheduled. This ultrasound revealed that we were having not one baby, but two babies. What was God planning? This pregnancy, led by God, gifted us with two healthy, baby girls. Magnolia Grace and Mosley Faith were born on December 22, 2017. Two beautiful gifts from God. Welcome babies #5 and #6.
While we will always have more questions than answers about our journey, and about the length of Brogan’s life, we know that Brogan’s life was exactly as God planned it. The impact that Brogan’s life has on us and on others is just as God has designed. Brogan’s life continues to bless ours, as well as others. While our prayers have indeed changed, our God has not. Our God is a God of love, and a God of hope. May we rest in this.
