My Journal of Heartache...and Hope

Our son Max was born on May 4, 2011. Life was busy, happy, and perfect for 37 days. Then, it wasn't.
A look back at our life before Max, with Max, and what comes after...

Friday, June 29, 2012

Waiting...

It's been said that waiting is the hardest part of any worthwhile feat, and while I don't know if that will be true with Quinn, it is starting to feel a little torturous. It's not even necessarily the waiting part that is bothering me; it's the unknown part of it all. I'm not talking about not knowing how big she will be, what color her hair will be, or whether I'll be in labor for a long time. The unknown parts that bother me are whether she will be healthy, whether she will be born alive, or whether she will survive every day. To be honest, I think that every day of her life will be a milestone for her and for us. Will I ever feel a sense of permanence with her? Will I always see her (and everyone around me, really) as the child who could die at any moment? I want to be able to enjoy her, and I know that I will. I guess I just worry that underneath it all will always be this nervousness that some sort of tragedy is right around the corner. I don't think that this is an unnatural way for me to be feeling, but that doesn't make it any easier to live with. Sometimes I just wish that I had that naivety that many parents do about the fragility of their children's lives. I feel like that sounds snobby, but I don't mean it that way. I mean that before Max died, I of course knew that horrible things could happen. I worried about them happening. But horrible things happened to other people. My fears always felt so irrational and unfounded. Now, horrible things have happened to me. My fears don't feel the least bit irrational or unfounded. Lori and I discussed this the other day. It's like we expect something bad to happen. We wondered if this is our new "normal" way of thinking and living. If you think about it, how could it not be? Our babies died of absolutely nothing. How could the world not be a scarier place after that? How could we not feel more vulnerable and less in control? How could we not question whether the gifts we've been given will suddenly be ripped away from us?

The past two weeks have been difficult for me emotionally. I feel constantly worried if Quinn isn't moving around. I even went to the doctor to have her heartbeat checked because I had convinced myself that something wasn't right. I try to tell myself that she's fine and that everything will be okay, but it's a much more difficult task to make myself actually believe it. I've had quite a few evenings filled with painful contractions that brought me, oddly enough, hope and joy. I thought that I would surely wake up in the middle of the night to find that the contractions were regular and closer together. Then we could go to the hospital, deliver Quinn, and everything would be fine. Obviously, this hasn't happened yet. I wake up the following morning and discover that the contractions have stopped. I really don't want to induce for several reasons, but I'm not going to list them here. I truly want Quinn to just come on her own. I can deal with the physical discomforts of being 40+ weeks pregnant, but the emotional ones are becoming a little bit troublesome. Even Scott is feeling scared now, which is a big change from how he has been feeling. If I don't go into labor by my next appointment on Monday, then we will schedule an induction date. Preferably for five minutes after my doctor's appointment. :) Without going into too many details, my body has prepared itself and is hopefully still making progress. Unfortunately, nothing has happened in the way of labor progressing. Going much past 40 weeks scares me because there are too many risk factors...what if the placenta deteriorates too quickly? I haven't gained any weight in almost 7 weeks, so what if she has already stopped growing and needs to come out? I've done enough questioning and what-iffing over the past year. I would like a little break now.

There is a title given to babies, like Quinn, who come after the loss of a child:  "rainbow babies." The whole idea behind the title is that the rainbow baby comes after a "storm" has ravaged a family. The appearance of the rainbow baby doesn't mean that the storm never happened or that we aren't still dealing with its aftermath; it just brings something beautiful and hopeful to the mix. This makes perfect sense to me because I feel a lot of conflicting emotions when I think about what life with Quinn will be like. I imagine holding her right after she's born, and I think about how happy I will feel to have been given such a beautiful gift. I mean, no matter how you think about it, the fact that two people can form a new life is simply amazing. I also wonder if I'll feel sad to remember all that I lost when Max died. I imagine feeding her, changing her diaper, pushing her around in the stroller, and playing with her, and I wonder the same thing. What I do know is that since June 10, 2011, my arms have felt painfully empty, and I can't wait for Quinn to be placed in them. So, is waiting the hardest part? Maybe it is. Maybe all of my fears will go away when Quinn finally makes her appearance in this world. Maybe meeting her is the only thing that will quell the anxiety that I feel now. Until then, I would certainly appreciate any positive thoughts and prayers that you can give to us.

Guestbook Entries from maxmcfall.com

So many people, both friends and strangers, left such encouraging and kind words at my old site, and I couldn't stand the thought of letting them "expire" along with the domain name. Looking back through them was both difficult and uplifting. They reminded me why it is so important that I continue to not only share my story, but to be open and honest while doing so. There are so many more entries than I remember there being, and there are many from people who I don't even know. These words are what inspired me early on to keep sharing my feelings. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me; I hope you will keep doing so! Here they are:

Marla said:   June 23rd, 2012 4:28 pm
As someone who has faithfully followed your blog while praying for you and your family, I can not pretend to even begin to know the painful path you have been given. Although we have never met I have worried as milestones have been reached and passed such as, Max's birthday, Mothers Day, the anniversary of Max's death, Fathers day and all the days in between. I have worried that the absence of your blogs indicate life has been too painful to write but pray that is not the case. I wonder about Quinn and how your pregnancy is coming. I guess what I really want to say is I am so very sorry for your pain and I have been thinking about you and your family. Sending lots of care and warm thoughts.

Alexis said:   May 22nd, 2012 11:21 pm
Thinking of you and your family a lot recently. So happy to hear about Quinn!

Grandma Shirley said:   April 30th, 2012 12:31 pm
Your lastest blog touched my heart as I too think of Max so often. I still remember the short time I got to be with him. I can still feel his little head nestled on my shoulder as I sang to him and he didn't even care how it sounded. I am so happy you will have the memorial garden and wish I was there with all of you. Send my love to all

Jill said:   March 29th, 2012 1:33 pm
Max was a beautiful baby. Blessings to you.

Tina Roth said:   March 18th, 2012 10:31 pm
Just read your latest post. You do a great job of articulating what is going on. I understand and have had several simillar situations. Please keep writing. 

Mandi said:   January 19th, 2012 11:55 pm
Scott and Lindsey, I am so sorry to hear of your loss of Max. I've been reading Lindsey's blog and the writing is talented, raw, tragic, touching, and uplifting. Thank you for being brave and sharing your talent and feelings with us during this difficult time. May you and your families find peace.

carol said:   December 29th, 2011 9:18 am
I am sooo happy for your great news! I really prayed for you and your family throughout these holidays. You and Scott are doing the Day-by-day thing and living on this side of tragedy. You all are heroes to me. I'm proud of you!

carol said:   November 23rd, 2011 4:29 pm
Sweet friend, In reply to your wonderful efforts to create new traditions, enjoy creating the new. So don't hurry through anything, just soak in the meaning of it all. You can and will add each year as special days and holidays come.

Grandma Shirley said:   November 20th, 2011 12:22 pm
Your message is so touching. I have been having a lot of Max attacks lately and it was so calming in a way to read how you are going to spend the holidays. I really like so many of your ideas and especially making the tree ornaments. May your holiday be blessed with all the family and friends there. Know that you are all in my heart and I will be thinking of you.

Terra said:   November 3rd, 2011 11:58 am
I just read the Faith's Lodge post. I'm touched by the photo- not sure if you took it or someone else? It conveys so much...not only the beauty of nature and the freshness of the morning, but also the symbolic. The letting in of light, the bridge, the silent forest, the familiar yet unknown, the sense of grandeur and being a small but necessary speck in the middle of it all...sometimes the eyes need to be opened.

Kristi Northcutt said:   October 20th, 2011 8:34 am
Scott and Lindsey, A dear friend of mine from college, Amy, and her husband lost a child a couple of years ago - Emily. She was 7 months old. Amy blogs and has a series tagged "The Grieving Mother." She wrote an entry yesterday that really spoke to what I hear you saying in your own blog, and I wanted to direct you to it. I hope that you find comfort in reading it, and any of her past entries about Emily. Hugs. http://www.raisingarrows.net/2011/10/there-is-beauty-in-the-ashes/

Jen Damti said:   October 11th, 2011 8:06 pm
It was a great surprise to see you this weekend. I had heard about your loss a few weeks ago but wasn't sure how to reach out to you. Joe and I are incredibly sorry for your loss. It is brave of you to write this blog, and your writing is so vivid. Thank you for sharing. I hope to see you both again soon.

Kelly Lopez said:   October 4th, 2011 9:31 pm
Even though I don't think I will ever have the right words, I just wanted to tell you that your family is in my thoughts and prayers every day. Your writing is so powerful and I hope you keep writing, as long as you find it a good outlet. Your retelling of Ethan's memory box left a lump in my throat. What a sweet, tender big brother he must be.

Grandma Shirley said:   September 30th, 2011 3:19 pm
I loved your poem and also the rhythm of it. But then I really like poetry if it really has meaning to it. I check almost everyday to see if you have written anything. I can understand how your students love to have you as a teacher.

Kristi said:   September 29th, 2011 3:45 pm
Lindsey, I am a friend of Scott's from high school, and I have been following this blog since you started it. Scott knows a little of what's going on in my son's life, so I won't go into detail here, but I will say that every time I read this, hot tears of mourning and loss race down my face and I feel so much of your pain. We are so very blessed to still have our son, but there have been times when I have seen the color leave him, the cold overtake him, and I have been TERRIFIED in every fiber of my being that I would lose him. I wish I had the words for you, to comfort you and your family, but I do want you to know that I am praying for you. That may not feel like much right now, but I wanted you to at least know it. AND...that I loved your poem. God's peace.

Listy Lehman said:   September 29th, 2011 3:42 pm
Your poem is beautiful! I really appreciate you sharing your deepest thoughts. You are truly an amazing person and loved by many.

Grandma Betty said:   September 5th, 2011 9:46 pm
Once again you were so spot on in your observations. I do know that grandma/mother that Scott was talking to and realized that Sept. 2 was the anniversary of the death of her son. I understand that the birth of this little girl has been bittersweet. Her son will never know his daughter and the grandma will never get to see him with his child. How very, very diificult this must be. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us.

Grandma Shirley said:   August 30th, 2011 4:44 pm
Couldn't help but have a teary eye as I read about the rocking chair. How well I remember rocking Max and singing to him. Little did I know then that I would not ever do that for him again so the memory is very precious to me as well as the time I got to spend getting to know Ethan better.

Abby Sapp said:   August 30th, 2011 12:55 pm
Thank you for continuing to share your journey. You are such a beautiful writer. All of you continue to be in our prayers.

Sara Bayless said:   August 30th, 2011 3:30 am
Lindsey, your writing is beautiful and poignant. I grieve for your family's loss and hope you recieve much comfort from your entries. I am humbled and honored to have a chance to read along through this gut-wrenching journey that is now your day to day life. I hope the days get lighter and the loving memory of your son carries you strong. Wishing you much peace and love.

Christine Baker said:   August 19th, 2011 6:56 pm
I hope you turn this blog into a book some day. Your writing is beautiful and your comments so thought provoking. It gives me so much insight in to what a grieving parent feels. I hope writing this gives you some comfort and a better way to cope with Max's death. I think about you and your family often and hope that you are blessed with much happiness in the future. Thank you for sharing such a personal journey with us.

Grandma Shirley said:   August 15th, 2011 9:34 am
Your writing is so so wonderful and calming to me also. I still think so often of Max and so glad I got to spend the time with all of you. Hope Ethan had a wonderful birthday. Miss you all but hope to see you soon.

Lisa Lung said:   August 10th, 2011 1:42 am
Lindsey, For some reason you were on my mind tonight. Perhaps it was because school starts up again this week, but regardless of the reason, I want you to know that I was thinking about you. I am so proud of this blog. I have been reading through your entries all night. Next thing I knew, I was sobbing! You and Scott are such strong individuals and I look up to you for your bravery. Please know that I think about your family and Max often!

Krissy DeVaux said:   August 6th, 2011 8:53 am
It took me awhile to bring myself to read this, but for some reason I woke up this morning and read every single word. Strangely, I found it soothing to read. I think about you and your boys nearly every day so it's relieving to know that you are doing your best to keep your heads up. I wish only the best for you all in the future!

Liz said:   August 6th, 2011 7:55 am
You have an amazing talent. Your ability to share your feelings and healing is unfounded. Thank you! I look forward to seeing you in a couple days. We love you guys! Liz, Jim, Emma, and Stella Bray

Erika Backs said:   August 2nd, 2011 11:53 pm
It was good to hear from you last night....it is NEVER too late. Laying on that big grassy hill and thinking about you, and probably passerbys wondering what the hell is wrong with her, I realize that you and Scott are just wonderful people. Max obviously was special too...look how many lives he has already influenced!!! Love you guys....talk to you soon!

Jeff Storey said:   August 2nd, 2011 10:02 pm
Lindsey, I have been reading your blog this evening: you do such a great job conveying your thoughts/emotions/struggles in the aftermath of Max's death. I must try the "Mad Max" pizza (or I could just sample some left in Nicole's fridge if it's still there!)...

Niki Dosland said:   August 2nd, 2011 8:21 pm
What a great website and way to journal your feelings! I've been reading your blogs and so happy to hear that you've surrounded yourself with lots and lots of support systems! Been thinking and praying daily about you guys. Love you!

Brie Meschke said:   July 30th, 2011 7:49 pm
so fun to read your blog. it is very wonderful, heartfelt, and inspirational. :)

Jennifer King said:   July 28th, 2011 1:08 am
Been keeping up, I know I don't know you well but your family has been in my prayers. It's wonderful to see that you are coping in a healthy way.

Katie said:   July 27th, 2011 11:06 pm
I have been putting off signing the guestbook for lack of being able to put all that Im feeling into my words like you can Linds. I really appreciate being able to read this blog even just to feel a little closer to you when Im so far away. You, Scott, Ethan, Max and all of your family are never far from my thoughts. I never thought I could miss someone so much that I never got to meet. Love always, Katie

Christy Mills said:   July 25th, 2011 1:49 pm
Your website is beautiful, I read it every chance I get. You and your family have been on my mind a lot lately, I can't imagine what your going through. Stay strong Mrs. Mcfall

Lindsey Welch said:   July 25th, 2011 4:35 am
Hi Linds and Scott, I have been reading all of your posts and they are beautiful and inspiring. Max's table is perfect and I am glad it gives you a little peace. I also read about the SIDS fundraiser and would love to help in any way I can so keep posting information about it. I keep thinking of you guys and Ethan!

debbie mcendarffer said:   July 24th, 2011 12:12 am
Lindsey, your blog and your ability to express your feelings is amazing. I admire your strength and want you to know you, Scott, Ethan and Max are in my prayers every night. I am happy we got to spend some pool time together and I got to know Ethan. Hope we can do it again before school starts.

Laura Dold said:   July 22nd, 2011 9:08 pm
I very much enjoyed meeting you and hearing all about darling Max. He sounded just as sweet as he was handsome. I'm thinking of you today and in the days to follow. Sometimes just knowing that there are a lot of us grieving mothers out there is enough to get through some of the more difficult days. We carry on because we have to. With love, Laura

Mommy said:   July 22nd, 2011 7:49 am
I should have called Nicole last night. I couldn't sleep thinking about you either. Wish I could hold you in my arms and make it all better but I know I can't. All my love coming your way, Mommy

Nicole said:   July 22nd, 2011 12:31 am
Couldn't sleep tonight thinking about you, Lindsey. I know these days are rough... which is the understatement of the century. However, reading your blog makes me feel stronger. I can only hope that writing does the same for you. I'm sending all my love your way.

Courtney Martinez said:   July 21st, 2011 11:11 pm
Lindsey, Scott & Ethan, I have met you a few times through Ryan & Alison. Mom told me about your blog today. You are so brave to share your feelings with the world. Thank you for your honesty. I hugged my boys a bit tighter tonight and we prayed for the McFalls. Prayers, good thoughts and wishes for peace from the Faddis-Martinez family.

Amber Byler Wilson said:   July 21st, 2011 4:05 pm
Lindsey, I'm so sorry for the loss of your precious son Max. I can't imagine the pain you & your family must feel. It's obvious the love you had for your son and I know he felt that love everyday of his short life. I don't understand why Max or any child would be called back to heaven so soon but it's not my place to understand it. God has a plan for all of us, for some reason he need sweet baby Max back in heaven with him after only 37 days. Ecclesiastes 11:5 As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother's womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things. After reading your posts on this website, I'm amazed by your strength. I know you have and will continue to be a support for families who have also lost a child. I will be praying for you & your family.

Grandma Betty said:   July 20th, 2011 9:38 pm
Lindsey - You have inspired so many of us who loved Max by your incredible writing. You have given words to the thoughts and emotions that randomly pop up during this difficult time. Thank you for that gift. I will always treasure the memories of my time with him. As time goes on I know there will be fewer tears of sadness and more moments of joy and hope. You are all loved very much. Grandma Betty

A said:   July 19th, 2011 1:28 am
Lindsey, I couldn't sleep tonight. I have thought of you, Scott, Ethan, and Max quite a bit even though I barely know you. I decided to google Max McFall at 1:30 in the morning Reading your story and the posts have been so endearing. I have lost a brother and a sister, and often think how my mom has been so strong all these years. She was a widower herself at 38. My sister died last year and although she is no longer on Earth to care for her children, I am positive she is helping to take of and love Max.

Melissa Green said:   July 18th, 2011 3:44 pm
This website it amazing. You are such an amazing family and I want to thank you for sharing all of your thoughts with us. Sending you love from California!

Aubry Spencer said:   July 18th, 2011 2:55 pm
Mrs. Mcfall - Your website is absolutely beautiful! Your honesty is so touching, and I can't imagine anyone reading your blog and not being touched. I think of you and your family all the time, you guys are always in my prayers.

Susan Jameson said:   July 16th, 2011 2:53 pm
Lindsey I just want to tell you that everytime I see you at Brookridge I want to come and hug you because that's all I would know to do. So everytime you see me smile at you know that I am holding you in my arms and hugging you. The other day as I was leaving the grocery store a mother walked in looking down at her baby, smiling and talking...it took my breath away and all I wanted to do was cry, because at that moment all I could think was if I feel like this what must Lindsey feel when she sees something like this. I carry the memory of the day at Brookridge when you and Scott came and picked up Ethan and you stopped at the door of Room B to talk and let me see Max. You are a family I will always remember...for all the reasons Ethan's first baby sitter wrote. My prayer for your family is that GOD will make that hole in your heart a treasure box that will always be there full of the wonderful memories of Max. Take Care of Yourself!

Carol said:   July 15th, 2011 12:55 pm
I read all so far...wrenching, I ache for your loss of Max,his dear little body,hair and face...his precious name...the dreams you and Scott had for him...the sobbing at roadside...Every tear of yours is seen by God

Sharon Anderson said:   July 14th, 2011 10:59 pm
Lindsey: I posted earlier today so if this is a repeat...sorry...I just want you to know I am heartbroken for you, your husband, Ethan and everyone who is close to you!! --Sharon PS--my husband works at (your) Quick Trip and he doesn't drink Rooster Booster or take No Doz... :-)

Sharon Anderson said:   July 14th, 2011 1:24 pm
Lindsey & family: You all have been on my heart and mind and in my earnest prayers since I learned of your tragic loss. Good for you that you have a forum for 'some' of your pain. I cannot even imagine. Please know that you are cared for. You are a brave person for being able to express yourself so eloquently!! You are quite a woman. Fondly...Sharon

Eva Schulte said:   July 13th, 2011 10:54 pm
Hello, I cry with you and am touched by your writing. I lost my baby boy from a cord incident several weeks before his due date. My new companions are an amazing comfort and salvation to me and I'm so glad you've found a similar network. I send you love and share your tears. Brie told me of your lovely blog tribute to sweet Max. Thank you for being so brave to share with us. We are here for you.

Schalie Johnson said:   July 13th, 2011 10:17 pm
Sending love and hugs your way. Lindsey, Scott, and Ethan. Know that you are always in my thoughts, every day, even when we do not get to see each other. My heart goes out to you.

Mary Helt said:   July 13th, 2011 9:23 pm
Lindsey~this is absolutely touching and honest. Thank you for sharing your thoughts, feelings, hurt and pain and beautiful memories of Max. You are in my thoughts all the time. I will be gone again this weekend, but maybe next week we could go for a walk together. You remain in my prayers.

Christine Baker said:   July 13th, 2011 6:40 pm
Lindsey, My heart absolutely breaks for you. I want to thank you for sharing your emotions and thoughts with everyone. I can't imagine what you must be going through on a daily basis, but I hope it gets a little easier every day. I've thought about you and your family often during the last month. I know happier days lie ahead for you.

Cindy Swarner said:   July 13th, 2011 1:43 pm
Lindsey, Even though we didn't get to know each other very well while teaching at South, You, Max and your family are in my prayers. Reading your posts brought tears to my eyes. So from an outside perspective I want you to know that I care that you were able to spend a short amount of time with a gift from God! I admire how you are sharing moments of Max with all of us. That is a treasure for sure! Wishing a little comfort for your aching heart for each day forward.

Casey McCabe said:   July 13th, 2011 12:30 pm
Lindsey, your writing is truly beautiful on every level. It's still weird, how life goes on despite the most devastating tragedy; I'm sitting in the Roasterie and I had just found the pics of Max I sent you on my phone. I had intended to procrastinate so I decided to review the hundreds of pics on my phone. Surprise, there was Max. In an instant the day changed, and not for the worse. It just became more precious. xoxox

Chris Fernandez said:   July 13th, 2011 10:19 am
I just wanted to say I love you guys! I'm so glad I got to meet Max and I'll always cherish the few memories have, especially the time he fell asleep in my arms while we were watching tv =) I cry when I read your posts, I feel so bad that you're hurting. But on the flipside, I'm glad you have an outlet for your thoughts and that you choose to share them with us instead of keeping them bottled up. There is so much more that I could write, but I'll just leave it at this. I really do love you guys.

Cheryl McFall said:   July 12th, 2011 8:00 pm
I miss Max. I never got to meet him. I never got to hear the giggles or see his eyes. I never got to hold him or even change a dirty diaper. I hear he had curly hair like me, his Aunt. I am so sorry for my daughter, Madion. She will never meet her baby cousin. She will never get to pick on him or be protected by him. However, she will know about him. She will, one day, hear about every moment of his short life. Peace be in the heart of all those who will read this. 

Kelly Lopez said:   July 12th, 2011 2:41 pm
Hi Lindsey, I work with your mom and have been so touched by Max even though I never met him. I wish I had something amazing to say to you but I just don't. So what I can say is this: I'm terribly sorry for the loss of Max, the loss of your hopes and dreams you had for your family and for all of the pain you are going through. You are in my thoughts daily and I pray for your broken, but healing heart. Your post about your mom was so very sweet. I know she thinks you are a simply amazing, kind and loving mother, daughter, sister and friend and she is so proud of you.

Brie Meschke said:   July 11th, 2011 8:06 pm
After having lost a child myself, I can completely identify with how you feel. I am so proud of you because I never had the nerve to tell people how hurtful it was when they said nothing. I admire how brave you are and would like to agree that no matter how hard it is for others, it is a thousand times worse for us. Many prayers and happy thoughts sent your way.

Brooke Bashaw said:   July 11th, 2011 1:01 pm
I worked with Scott for approx. 1 1/2 years and it was greatexperience that I am truly happy I was apart of. I loved the days that Lindsey would come by the office and bring Ethan in...just for a visit or to drop him off to hangout with us. Scott and Lindsey are honestly some of the most amazing people I have met in my life, always happy, laughing, joking and showing they love they had for eachother and for Ethan. I strive to have a loving relationship such as theirs. It was a wonderful experience seeing everyday how much Scott loved Lindsey and seeing his eyes light up when he talked about Ethan. The days Lindsey would drop Ethan off with Scott at work were my favorite because I not only got an excuse to hangout with Ethan for a little while but also see what a wonderful father Scott was and how much he enjoyed it. I started working with him in Feb. 2010 and shortly thereafter I remember him always talking about how they were going to try for a second child and how absolutely excited they both were after they found out their second child was on the way. I have not gotten to experience that joy before! I never got the oppurtunity to meet Max but I remember hanging up pictures on the wall above Scott's desk so when he returned from his short time off he would see them and know how excited we all were for them both. Each day was a new experience and I loved being able to share in the stories of them having a new baby in the house. After finding out what had happened my heart broke for Lindsey, Scott and Ethan. It is something I cannot imagine going through or even associate any feelings with. It didnt seem fair to me because of what wonderful people and wonderful parents Lindsey and Scott are. I think about you guys often and hope that you are finding the strength in eachother and through family and friends to cope during this difficult time. I will always keep you in my thoughts and prayers.

Ashley Eller said:   July 11th, 2011 12:25 pm
Mrs. McFall, You were one of my favorite teachers in high school. I love your dry sense of humor and I feel like you helped shape me as a person. I felt so cool my first few months of college that you took the time to Facebook chat with me about silly things, but also serious ones. Then, when I ran into you at Target over winter break, I believe, and you told me you were pregnant, I was so happy for you. All of us in fourth hour wanted you to get pregnant all year. I saw you as an awesome mom and role model and was so glad that you would have a chance to mold another great little boy. I heard about your loss when I was sitting at my friend's pool and I was speechless, in complete shock. You're such a good person and I couldn't imagine what you were going through. Like in your post from July 9th, I didn't want to say anything because I didn't know what to say; I didn't know your whole story and I didn't want to be nosey. But after reading your website and knowing more of what you have gone through, I feel so deeply sorry for you. You, and your family, did NOT deserve this. I think I say this for all your students when I say Thank You, and We Love You. You will always be in my thoughts and prayers.

Meghan McConville said:   July 11th, 2011 11:39 am
I am a firm believer in the power of the written word to cleanse and allow our brains a bit of room. Thank you for your honesty. I have experienced loss, but will not try to imagine your experience with this. It would be an insult to both of us and the lives we mourn. I will say that the range of emotions that you will continue to feel on this road that you and your family are now destined to follow will run the gamut. Anger is right up there and has its place. But know your ability to convey that emotion eloquently and with grace is something rare. So I applaud you taking the time and energy to allow so many people into these moments that for so long and for so many, are had behind closed doors without anyone knowing their true pain. It is raw and hard to face, but it is a testament to your love for your family and the impact that Max had on everyone. 

Mindy Eddleman said:   July 9th, 2011 10:50 pm
You do not know me but I went to nursing school with Lori and saw your website link on FB. I delivereed my twins on April 25th and like you am a constant worrier. I am paralyzed with fear daily that something will happen to one or both of my babies. I cannot imagine the pain you must feel and I am so very sorry that you and Lori both have to experience this. My heart breaks everytime I think of Lori and her little Bo and now, for you and your Max. Please know that even though we are complete strangers I pray for you and your family daily. I pray that God will at least lessen your pain because I know it will never completely go away. God bless.

Samantha said:   July 9th, 2011 10:26 pm
Lindsey, I am so glad to see that you went ahead with the post. I will say from experience your post will make more people reach out. Yet, unfortunately, you will also learn that sometimes it's just better for people to turn the other way.....this is because you and Scott will find that some people say some of the most inappropriate things when they are uncomfortable. Continue to express how you feel, it will provide you with a sense of release. It will also "help" your friends understand what you need. I often get told we don't say anything about Mason cause we don't want to upset you. Unless someone has lost a child themselves they can't begin to imagine our pain. People don't realize that we are always thinking about our babies and we want to hear people talking about them. Even if it makes us cry, we want to know they have not been forgotten. ((((HUGS))))), it was great to see you and Scott today and to get to meet Ethan and your in-laws.

Leann said:   July 9th, 2011 4:23 pm
Linds- Thanks for telling it like it is....being your true self! I didn't know the ettiquette of a short termed former co worker barging in on such a private moments such as his service and so on. I do know that prayers, love and good thoughts are coming to you every single moment from me and my family. Max is a beautiful baby and I am so very sorry that your time was so short with him.

Diana said:   July 9th, 2011 2:43 pm
Reading your experience breaks my heart, but it is beautifully written. I am amazed by your strength.

Meghan Robinson said:   July 9th, 2011 2:16 pm
Lindsey, I am so sorry for your loss. My thoughts and prayers go out to you and your family. I know that he will remain in your hearts forever and may God take care of him from now on. 

Davi Norwood said:   July 9th, 2011 1:45 pm
This website for your beautiful baby boy is amazing! I'm so sorry for you and your family's loss. I have a 13 month old and like you, I'm a worrier. I can't imagine your pain. I read the posts on max's website and cry. My heart aches for you! I know it's been a long while since we've seen or talked. Just know I've thought about you daily since I heard the news. The only thing I know to say is again, I'm so very very sorry. Hugs to you all from Texas

Donna Callewaert said:   July 8th, 2011 10:21 am
Wow. This gave me goosebumps reading it and remembering all the days I saw you during your pregnancy and us talking about Max arriving. My heart continues to ache for you, Scott and Ethan and everyone who knew and loved Max. I am always here for you, whatever you need. Love you girl!

Samantha said:   July 7th, 2011 11:21 am
Lindsey (and Scott) I am so sorry you are too living this horrible nightmare. It's beyond unfair that we won't get to raise our boys. (((Hugs))). I hope this provides an outlet for you to share Max with the world.

DB said:   July 7th, 2011 11:13 am
I thought he had kind of a British pop star look when I met him. Maybe the fifth Beatle? I can't describe how much it means to me that I got to meet Max when you brought him up to school. I will never forget that day. I hate what it has to represent now, but I think about it every day and cherish that brief interaction.

paul baker said:   July 7th, 2011 10:51 am
Mrs Mcfall- I still pray you heal day by day. I still cringe when I think about the pain your in. I still remember taking a class poll on boy or girl. (I voted boy) :) when I saw you had this website I immeditly followed the link and read your story. I'm happy that you're a strong enough person to share your story. You made an impact on my life as a teacher and as a person. The respect I have for you is tremendous! Mr Mcfall- you married an awesome lady who is a great teacher. I wish you all the best in the future ahead of you! Keep on truckin'

Kristin Kreutzer said:   July 7th, 2011 10:29 am
Max was a gorgeous baby. This website shows how much he meant to you and I think it is wonderful. May he rest in peace forever. Hopefully the memories of him will lift some of the heaviness from all of your hearts.

Great Grandma Shirley said:   July 7th, 2011 10:21 am
I will always cherish the wonderful time I spent with the McFall family and getting to sing and play with Max. Also spending more time with Ethan and letting him get to know his Gr. Grandma. Love to all of you from Gr. Grandma and Gr. Grandpa.

Grandma Mindy said:   July 6th, 2011 8:59 pm
I am crying a mixture of tears...sad ones for I miss you so much...happy ones for the beautiful words I have just read...hopeful ones for the days that happy thoughts override the sad ones. Love, Grandma

Nicole Leifer said:   July 6th, 2011 8:11 pm
Lindsey, What a beautiful tribute to Max. I look forward to reading your words as you navigate the future. I love you so much. Nicole

Lori Rapoff said:   July 6th, 2011 4:02 pm
I love it so far :) We will soon know the ways of the blog world...love his sweet picture!

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

The Anniversary

It has been a little over a year now since Max died. It's no secret that he died in our house, so the thought of being in our house on that "anniversary" was not a desirable one. Most of the time, I don't mind being here. I associate our house more with the "happy" times spent with Max. I don't know that I'll ever be able to really leave this house because this was his home. This is where he spent his entire life, and for some reason those are the times that I remember more than anything. I'm glad for that. I think with counseling, writing, and really working on my grief, I've been able to find ways to refocus my thoughts when they find themselves wandering to the early morning hours of June 10, 2011. Still, I think it would have been next to impossible to avoid reliving that day when June 10 came this year. I can't imagine that being in the place where it all happened would have helped at all. So, we went on vacation. Both sets of parents and our siblings and their families came along with us. We rented a big house on Table Rock Lake and spent the week doing whatever we wanted to do. While I was somewhat limited considering that I'm due to give birth any day now, I found plenty to do. Spending the week with our families was exactly what we needed, and we plan on taking a vacation with our families every year for the week of June 10. I know it sounds cheesy, but I have taken such comfort in the outdoors and nature since Max's death. I clearly remember feeling repulsed at the thought of sitting inside in the days and weeks after Max died. I can't explain why, and most people who know me were probably a little surprised by my sudden rejection of air conditioning, television, and all of the comforts of modern technology. There was just something about all of these things that felt so suffocating. While I have renewed my love of air conditioning and television, there is still something about being in nature that is still very therapeutic and appealing to me. Table Rock Lake was the perfect setting then for this vacation. We rented a house that was on the lake, but still very secluded. We were surrounded by trees and silence. It was beautiful and peaceful and helped me to do a lot of thinking and reflecting. I had quite a few breakdowns, some of them expected (on the 10th) and some of them surprising (after taking a family picture at Old Time Photos). But I'm not naive; I know that I needed to feel these emotions and to let the tears come. I owe that to Max, and I owe it to myself.

I know that I've said it before, but last week really made me believe even more that we wouldn't be where we are in our grief process without the love and support of our family and friends. We are so lucky to be surrounded by so many selfless, thoughtful, and genuinely compassionate people. From little trinkets and notes to planning elaborate family vacations, the gifts that they have given us have absolutely changed our lives. Grief is lonely. I've never felt so alone in my life. My friends and family make it less lonely, though. I know they feel helpless and struggle to find the "right" words and actions, but I have to say that they're doing a pretty damn good job. It really took the combined efforts of counselors, friends, and family to get us to a place where we feel like Max's death is something that we can live with. It's not "okay", and I still feel very angry at times, but I know now that it's okay to keep living and feeling happiness. I can honestly say that there was a time when I felt that I would never be happy again. I'm glad that my friends and family proved me wrong on that one.

As far as June 10 goes, it is a day that I will always dread. It is also my best friend's birthday. I hate that her birthday will always be associated with something so horrible, but maybe it will get easier with time. For me, June 9 was almost harder than June 10. June 9 was Max's last day alive, and it is probably that day that is most clear as far as my memories of him go. I remember nearly everything I did that day. This year, we were driving to Table Rock on June 9. Every time I looked at the clock, I was taken back one year to my last day with Max. Part of what was so painful about thinking about June 9 was that I had no idea that it was my last day with Max. What would I have done differently had I known? For one, I wouldn't have napped with Max. I would have watched him sleep and memorized every part of him. Maybe I would have talked to him more. I'll be honest...I talked to him a lot, and sometimes I felt crazy for doing so. I would have told him everything though, had I known that I wouldn't have that opportunity later. I would have taken a thousand pictures. I would have held him every second of the day. I wouldn't have gone to the grand opening of Live Strong stadium to see KC Sporting. I would have stayed home and stayed awake and took in all of him. But then what? The outcome is still the same, no matter how I would have spent that day. And really, June 9 was a very good day. I saw the brotherly love between Ethan and Max, I shared Max with close friends, and I told him how much I loved him. I told him every day. Thinking about how I would have done things differently isn't about regretting how I actually spent my time that day; it's about imagining what could have been, and we all do a little bit too much of that after someone we love dies. Ultimately, I am satisfied with how I spent Max's last day alive. I think he probably feels the same way. Even me leaving for the evening had a greater purpose--Scott got to spend the entire evening with Max. What if he didn't have that?

So, we've made it through the first year. It doesn't seem possible that it's been a year since I last saw Max, held him, brushed my fingers through his beautiful hair, or told him that I loved him. I have a feeling that I will feel that way with every year that passes. Yes, the last year has been hard. It's been the worst year of my life, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. But the last year has also brought many good things. I feel like my marriage has been strengthened, my friendships have gained more meaning, my perspective on life is a little more meaningful, my priorities have changed for the better, and we're about to welcome a new life to the world. I don't know if it was Max's purpose in life to make these things happen, but I do know that I am so grateful to him for letting me discover these things. I used to say without hesitation that I would give up everything to go back to my old life before Max died. Now, I don't know that I have the right to bargain like that. Of course, I would give anything to have Max here today, running around the house and trying to form words. The difference, I guess, is that when I said this before, it was because I hated my life and couldn't stand the thought of living without Max. Now, I don't hate my life, and while I still don't like the thought of living without Max, I do accept that it is my reality. I've found ways to live with that reality, and I've found that I actually do have a lot to look forward to in life. I have Max to thank for a lot of wonderful things in my life. I think that we are just beginning to discover the gifts and legacies that Max left behind, and in this way (and many others) I know that he will continue to be a part of our lives forever.