The Aftermath

I had been surprised a moment earlier by a friend who had just driven 4 hours to be there, and it confirmed, yet again, how friendship gives strength both to the one hurting and to the one who comforts. He undertook an incredibly long and emotional day with the sole purpose of carrying my burden, if at least for a brief moment while we hugged.

A few moments later, I turned to my left and standing 4 feet from me was the warmest smile I have ever seen in my life. There before me stood a man with long dark hair, a strong slender build, and a happy smile which gets sort of hidden behind a pretty impressive beard. He was just standing there smiling with his arms open wide. I had thought of him often as Rachel's pregnancy with Jax brought its news. We now shared a common bond that neither of us particularly care to have. I joined him in what he said was, "one the worst clubs on the planet." We are both fathers who have lost a son.

As I walked over to him, I began to fall apart inside. My eyes welled up and I could no longer keep a strait lip. I was about to be hugged and touched by one who had felt a very similar pain. For some reason, it made me feel safe. My heart was lifted in that moment, and I didn't need any defense in front of him. Even if I tried to put up a defense I think I knew he would see right through it. Neither of us said anything for a few long moments; I just cried in his arms. He broke the silence first, and he told me that he would not lie to me. He told me that the pain doesn't go away and it wont get any easier. I instantly understood something I had wrestled with before Jax was born.

During the time while Jax was in Rachel's belly, I remember thinking of this man. I would see his face in my mind, and it was there in my mind when I had become aware of just how beautiful his smile is. I remember thinking, "After losing his son, how could he possibly smile like that?" The way I felt, and honestly still feel for now, is that my heart will forever feel as though it is shattered and held in place only by the way its jagged and broken edges fit perfectly together. Or as though I hold all of the fragmented pieces in my arms and they are too many for me to hold all at once. Much like the laundry, when I forget to bring a basket along and decide to carry it all in my arms. Whenever I pick up the last piece, another takes its place on the floor. The cycle usually repeats until I am no longer too prideful to either make two trips (which I loathe!) or go and get a basket. I feel as though a piece of my heart will always be on the floor. I just can't hold it all together.

About a week before Jax came, I remember wondering if my heart was becoming callous. I did't have the same emotional feelings I had when we first found out about Jax's T18. God very clearly interrupted my thinking, and He let me know that thought couldn't be further from the truth. On the contrary, my heart wasn't hardening, it was growing stronger. What I thought was a hardening of my heart came from a deliberate act of God's grace. It was the working of that same grace which many countless people were praying to cover my family. This is what my dear friend was showing me through his smile and in his words. To say my pain will not leave or lighten may seem to bring no words of comfort, but God had prepared my mind to understand just what he meant. He spoke the truth to me in love, and in that embrace I felt a portion of my fragmented heart meld back together as a part of the healing process was taking place. I had been given a hope that made sense. I will grow from this.

I thank God for my friend often. I pray also for those of you who read this and are faced with a similar trial. May God bring healing to you through those who have lost. The point is not to escape the pain, and it's certainly not to embrace it. I want to learn to trust God with the path I walk. Scars aren't such a bad thing and many times they serve as a reminder of what we have had the strength to endure. I know that many men will lose sons and daughters as the years go on, and I just hope I will be as strong as my friend was. My hope is that I will be able to smile and give them hug, to show them they are not alone, to show them that even though they fear it they will not be crushed by anxiety and grief, and although they feel weak in that moment the strength will be given them yet again to smile. One day, to the right person, my smile will be as beautiful as my friends was to me. One day, though I still hurt, I will bring comfort.

We pray for you to be blessed by this post,

Marcus and Rachel

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted." --Jesus

Gal 6:2

Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ.

Eccl 4:12

A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer. Three are even better, for a triple-braided cord is not easily broken.

Our son, Sweet Baby Jax

I know that many of you have seen the video already, but for those of you who live far away, here is the slide show that we played at Jax's memorial service. It is located on the right side of the blog in a video from Youtube.com. Enjoy! If you have not already, read my post "45 minutes 'til Heaven." It gives a moment by moment account of our emotions as Jax's life unfolded before us.

All credit for this video must be given to Jenny, with Sherfsshots.com, as she was there with our family capturing every moment. She edited and rendered this film alone, for free. It is beautiful. Thank you, Jenny.

On our wedding day, our photographer wanted to come in and take a picture of our faces when we first saw each other. Really, she wanted to capture my face as I first took in Rae Rae wearing her wedding dress. I paled in comparison to her. I told Rachel that was not something I wanted anyone else to share. That was to be our moment, and I told her I would never forget how beautiful she looked on the day when we forever join our paths together. I did not need a photo. This is not how either of us felt about the day Jax was born. We wanted every second of this day to be captured.

We want everyone to know about our son Jax. He was here on this earth with you, and he came with a one word message, love! Love your children, love your parents, love your family, love your neighbor, and love the one who made them all! Because, He loves you.

With love for you all,

The Hennon's

Romans 5:8

But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

A Debt of Gratitude

There are a few people that Rachel and I want to thank. These are some amazing people. They carried us when we could not walk. We want everyone to know what they have meant to us. They gave of themselves and showed worth to a helpless baby and his grieving family. Thank you.

White Chapel: You removed a burden that will enable us to freely grieve.

Miss Patti and Alexandria’s House: She showed us we are not alone in our struggle. She has held our hand and been a guide in a very confusing and emotional time.

Our Beloved Friend Jenny Scherfenberg with ScherfsShots.com: She captured our baby Jax’s life on camera as it flashed before our eyes. Her creativity is a blessing from God. Jenny, no avenue exists to repay or express what you mean to us.

Doctor Hartung: We would have been blind and confused without you. Without you, how would we have cared for our son? You explained his limitations but celebrated his life. Your honesty, compassion, empathy, and gentle spirit have saturated our lives.

Our care nurse Elizabeth: A listening ear, a tender heart, and caring touch warmed our hospital room in the hours following Jax’s passing. We cherish her for her willingness and desire to experience the joy of our son.

Our Delivery Nurse Amanda: She chose to pick up our burden and walk with us when she could have chose to serve a different family. A maternity floor is filled with such beautiful sounds, but Amanda willingly entered into our silence. She bathed our whole family in love and service, her presence couldn’t be replaced. She is a most beautiful gift.

Tears From a Dad: Part Two

When I intended on writing this, My son Jax was snuggled warmly inside Rachel's belly. As many of you know, he passed away on November 29. He was with us for a total of 45 minutes. WE are having a memorial service for him at the Vineyard church in Kansas City, MO.

It was the quickest 45 minutes I have ever lived through. I have written my thoughts down and will give them tomorrow. After the service, I will post what I have written. It is basically a recount of my experience with my son. What a wonderful time we had.

Monday after work, Rachel told me we needed to go to the hospital. She was having contractions. So we went, hoping they would call her a ninny and send her home. This wasn't the case. She was dilated to 3 cm and having very steady, strong contractions. They admitted her, and we had Jax a few hours later. I have shed more tears than I thought my eyes contain. I don't know where I am getting the fluid. I find myself doing okay for a little while then in a second my emotions turn, and I want to collapse. I keep getting strength to go on. Thank you all for praying for us. I can't believe this whole process has been only about 1 month. I know it will take a lifetime to run its course.

I went from taking for granted that we would have a healthy baby to being thankful for 45 minutes with him. I have another poem to post. It speaks for itself and gives a good representation of how we find our strength. It seems we find the most strength, when we run out of our own. We have nothing left to tell God, as he knows our heart. We just let the weeping do the talking. The weeping entails joy as well as sadness, and our hearts become perfectly in tune with God's. God listening to our heart, as we listen to his.

“Crystal Tears”

One tear rolls down a rosy cheek

Its voice is soft, its voice is sweet.

Another drip from a shiny nose

Can you hear its song, do you hear its prose.

The emotion floods from inside deep,

Forced form a heart with a steadfast beat.

With pain that fills a tearful face,

Seeking strength and finding grace.

Cries to God with crystal tears,

Have sung his praise ten thousand years.

He hears in heaven, and from the stars,

He bottles our tears in diamond jars.

So when your lips are dry and sore,

But there’s passion still in your inner core.

Stand encouraged and do not despair,

For each small tear is worth a thousand prayers.

Two verses came to mind as I wrote this.

1: psalm 56:8 (nlt)

You keep track of all my sorrows.

You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.

2.Romans 8:26

And the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness.

For example, we don't know what God wants us to pray for.

But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings

that cannot be expressed in words.

45 Minutes 'til Heaven

When the doctor said Rachel was fully dilated, I panicked. My consciousness retreated into the confines of my mind. I could not hear or sense my surroundings for about 30 seconds. I just stared at Rachel's belly and thought of the little life inside of her. My thoughts went to Joshua. I desperately wanted to stop the sun from moving, and to keep time at bay so that I could get a clear thought. I needed things to slow down while I thought of an alternative. My boy was coming like a rush of wind. The wind comes so swiftly, and although we try it cannot be held back.

Dr. Hartung told us that his heart rate had slowed, and that if we wanted time with him then he needed to come. Both of us confirmed to her with a nod of our head. We were not ready; Jax was only 30 weeks along and much too small. He couldn't survive. Rachel gave two pushes and his hairy little head was resting sweetly on the doctor's hands. The first glimpse of him made the anxiety flee. "Did God work the miracle I wanted? Were the doctors wrong? He looks so perfect."

The doctor pinched his umbilical chord and felt for a pulse. She had told us before the birth, in the most gentle way, that the labor would be very hard for him, and that he may not have a heartbeat when we first hold him. She smiled big and nodded as her eyes moved to meet with our own. She looked back and forth at us both and said, "It's beating." She immediately wrapped him tight is his warm blue blanket, which has his name stitched into the corner. I think we knew what our hearts were reluctant to believe. We asked Dr. H how she knew he was T18 and she pointed out a few things to us that our parents eyes just wouldn't allow us to notice. To us, he was perfect. Just a little small, but in reality he had no neck, his ears sat below his jaw line, his little hands were clinched, and his fuzzy chin was also just a little too small.

By this time, Jax had been in his mothers arms for nearly 20 minutes. Dr. H opened his baby blanket and felt his cut chord for a pulse. With a little less of a grin she smiled and said he still had a pulse, but it was faint. She then took him from Rachel and placed him in my arms. Immediately, the life he would never lead flashed through his daddy's eyes. The first fall, the first snowman, t-ball, high school, curfew, sending him to college, meeting his wife, holding his first child, helping him fix his leaky faucet, and about 14,000 hugs along the way. My spirit collapsed with grief. "My son, my beautiful son! I love you! I will always love you." I was weeping and crying and my body was fatiguing from the stress my body was feeling from the tension of crying so hard. I noticed through the wells of water on my eye lids that I had been dripping my tears on him. If he couldn't see or hear it, maybe he felt my love as it washed over his weak little body.

25 minutes had passed, and Dr. H took him and checked once more. He still had a pulse, but it was growing ever faint. She removed her stethoscope and put the plugs in my ears. I was able to hear my sons heart as it thumped. The sound in my ears was beyond description. I will not even attempt it. Tonight, go and listen to a loved ones heart beat. Listen with a new ear. After I heard a few beats, Rachel took her turn. 30 minutes had passed and aunt Judy brought our son Jace to see his dear little brother. Jace sat in his daddy's lap and held his brothers tiny hands. He gave them kisses as well as baby Jax's head. he knows Jax had a boo-boo and asked Dr. H to give him a band-aide. Jenny took our family pictures with Jace, and then anyone who was there came in for family pictures as well as family and friends pictures. 40 minutes had passed. The nurses had cleaned the room, the photographer had snapped over 250 pictures, and somewhere along the way we taken family pictures. Rachel's cousins gave Jax kisses as well as aunt Judy and then Grandma loved on her new little boy.

They were gone in a minute or two and Dr. H again checked for a pulse. 45 minutes had passed. Her smile was not the same. She shook her head the wrong way, and told us that his heart had given up. Our son was now where we could not follow. We had so desperately held on to him, prayed for him to stay with us, and anxiously fought against his leaving. On the other side of time, his Creator, his grandpa, and two great-grandparents were patiently waiting. They were calling Jax to themselves as well, and our son could not resist there calling. He had come to do what he was created for. His part here was done. Our capacity to love expanded beyond measure, the value of mankind has become ever clear, and the love of God has triumphed again. His heart beat for 45 minutes, but for the rest of time when we Jax's life we can hear the whispers of God's good grace.

Thank you father for your Son, and thank you Father for my son.

Marcus and Rachel

Tears From a Dad: Part One

I am not the only one to ever shed a tear for their child. I know parents shed tears over their kids for numerous things: health, future, love, acceptance. It is also apparent that many people have been fortunate enough to not have lost anyone too close to them. That was me just 4 years ago. Sensitivity has gripped my mind in a very personal way. I witnessed my wife lose a father. Two of my grandparents have returned to the one who created and redeemed them. My siblings, parents and I have gone through some very intense relational difficulties, so much so that the alienation that pervades our family has left us toiling under our own burdens without the support of those who should be our biggest supporters and allies.

What could be so important that we cannot or will not love the precious life that flows through our families veins? How is the breathe of a brother or sister not just as precious as the breathe we all pray for in the life of my son Jax? Is it only possible to pray for him because he has not wronged us in any way?

"Wow Marcus, you are kinda throwing your family under the bus aren't you?"

Maybe, to a certain extent, but just listen to this line from Minister Hooper in the Ministers Black Veil by Nathaniel Hawthorne said seconds before he passed away .

"Why do you tremble at me alone?" cried he, turning his veiled face round the circle of pale spectators. "Tremble also at each other. Have men avoided me, and women shown no pity, and children screamed and fled, only for my black veil? What, but the mystery which it obscurely typifies, has made this piece of crepe so awful? When the friend shows his inmost heart to his friend; the lover to his best beloved; when man does not vainly shrink from the eye of his Creator, loathsomely treasuring up the secret of his sin; then deem me a monster, for the symbol beneath which I have lived, and die! I look around me, and, lo! on every visage a Black Veil."

The minister had lived years beneath a veil, hiding his face. The town people thought there was something wrong with him. That maybe he had some secret guilt or flaw he didn't want them to see. His life was a living illustration to show them that they were all wearing veils over their faces, which were destroying their most important relationships. These "veils" are that which separate our families. "Love conquers all," so what keeps you from your family? We cannot love with a mask on. The mask can be made of pride, anger, unforgiveness, guilt, embarrassment, and jealousy among others.

The more friends I find, the more friends I find whose families suffer. Chances are, you live in such a broken family. No one says we have to love our families unconditionally, but why not? Let me tell you what Jax has taught me as I prepare my heart for Thanksgiving. Many of us are praying for a miracle for Jax. My mother and father are miracles. My brother and sister are miracles. My wife and son are miracles.

I want my son Jax to be healthy so bad that there is nothing he could possibly do that would cause me to not love and have a loving relationship with him. I will forever pray for my family and work toward finding a peace for us all. It has been many years since my family has been together in any capacity. I am hoping through the life of Jax they too, along with you, will find a new love for family. They are a miracle in your life, do not throw them away like trash. My son Jax is priceless. I would give anything to have him in my life for as long as I live. I pray for you the same. That you would change your heart and say you would give anything to have them in your life. Even if it is to remove the mask that separates you. Remember this, a family is a collection of irreplaceable lives. They are priceless. Show them that you know this.

Have a happy Thanksgiving everyone. We all have much to be thankful for, and I hope we don't overlook it.

I am praying for all who read this,

Marcus

From I Corinthiams 13;

Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up;

does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil;

does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth;

bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never fails.

Christmas 2010

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