The Hard Choices

I have recently had the opportunity to consider where we have been and where we are going throughout this journey of ours. The common theme throughout has been the fact that hard choices abound.

I chose the photo of the house immediately adjacent to a crossroad to illustrate the point of this post. Our journey has often placed us in situations that required us to leave the relative comfort of the moment and to choose a new path. Many times, we had no idea where that path would lead, and yet we realized that staying “home” might not have been the best option. Allow me to explain.

Our journey began by choosing a path that left the comfort of our home that we had lived in for 16 years. We had grand plans that involved a variety of things, including assisting our parents and building a new home. We felt an urge that suggested to us the status quo was insufficient, and so we leaped by faith. That leap placed us right where we needed to be at the perfect time. As the news of Jacob’s arrival hit us, we found ourselves among family and were able to rally support that might not have been as available as before.

Following Jacob’s arrival, we found ourselves making decision after decision with regard to his health. I use the word “decision”, although the reality was that each choice did not carry with it much of a decision. “Should we give him this medication, or not?” “Do we allow this test, or not?” “Do we give up on him, or give him everything we’ve got?” The paths laid out before us typically included one obvious choice, and we followed it. We followed it even when one of the last choices we made (to have intestinal surgery, or not) ultimately lead to his passing. We still fight the temptation to feel guilty for making the decision, although we are confident that we made the correct call.

Hard choices were also abundant outside of the context or Jacob’s immediate medical care. For instance, I often had to decide whether to go into work or stay at the hospital; the duties of father and care-giver often collided with the duties of my career. Sometimes, my duty as father of a growing and vibrant young girl conflicted with that of my infant son who struggled each hour in the NICU; how does a father choose between the needs of his children in a situation like that?

“…choose this day whom you will serve…. But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” Joshua 24:15 (adapted)

The final hard choice we made for Jacob was to let him go when it became apparent that the surgery was not successful. Many parents before us have had to make the gut-wrenching decision to remove their child from life-support. I cannot adequately describe the feeling, not do I want to try to explain it beyond this: Our faith in Christ’s saving sacrifice and the promise of the Resurrection made the decision to finally let Jacob pass in peace much easier. Even among the highly-trained hospital staff, there was not a dry eye. Everyone knew that something special was coming to an end.

After Deb and I had made the decision, we were able for the first time to see him without the tubes and wires. We held him close in his final moments. And we will cherish that moment for the rest of our lives. We also chose to make the trip home to wake sister from sleep at that late hour and bring her back to the hospital so that she too could say goodbye. I trust that decision was the right one for her.

The hard choices continued from there. Funeral arrangements for an infant. Choices for memorials. Choices that attempted to organize the newly discovered chaos. And then, suddenly, silence. Calm. Peace. The quiet end to an incredible race provided us with moments to reflect. Often, those moments led to heightened grief. Sometimes, they provided a much-needed respite from the stress of the previous two months. Yet those moments beckoned us, in a way, to move forward.

During one of his visits with us at the NICU, our pastor mentioned the fact that our journey with Jacob had ripple effects among those around us, some seen and some unseen. Obviously, his perspective led to the title of this blog. We have seen some of those effects both in our lives and in the lives of others. The fact that the ripples continue to flow leads us to consider: is there yet another hard choice to be made?

Currently, we have reached a position of comfort. Our grief still exists (and honestly, it will for a long time). The temptation is to choose to remain in this position. Why shouldn’t we? We deserve it, we earned it, we’ve been through the wringer and are entitled to some time off. Isn’t it easier to take that approach? Yet, we were meant for more than that. (Esther 4:14).

So, another choice remains for us: What do we do with Jacob’s ripple effect? Sure, our journaling has been a healthy release for us in our grief. Our posts have touched the lives of many of you (and we are thrilled when you let us know how these posts have touched you!). But is that all we can do?

Deb and I remain active in the Family Friendly Partners Network at our church, and find the encouragement of families to be both therapeutic for us and a great opportunity to use our experiences from this trial. We enjoy the company of our friends and family who remain supportive. We attempt to empathize (now with a new perspective) with those in our circles who have also experienced loss. But is that all we can do?

We have been encouraged to find joy in all of this. I am convinced that joy will be found in some new venture of ours that will use our experiences to help others. We don’t know what that will be at the moment, and we continue to pray for guidance and for the strength to recognize the moment… and to make the right choice.