Saying good-bye to Baby Jonah

The last two weeks have been a roller-coaster of emotions and feelings. When baby Jonah's birth was imminent, we were afraid that we might not get to hold him or bless him if he did not live long enough. The anxiety as we waited in the waiting room was gut-wrenching.

But as we walked quickly down the hall to the delivery room, we heard the blessed cries of a newborn - and our elation seemed to know no bounds.

The hours and days following were filled with unanswered - and answered questions. Yes, you can take him home. Yes, you will have Hospice there to assist. Yes, Phoebe, Eliza, and Hannah will be able to come and hold him and kiss him.

But how long will this go on? How many times can he stop breathing before he can't go on? How long will his strong heart keep beating?

The questions are moot at this point. But the wonderful memories - even the sad memories - will always be with us - teaching us, reminding us, encouraging us.

As a parent, it was most difficult for me to see our son and his sweet wife suffer as they lovingly devoted every waking hour - giving up many sleeping hours to do so - to their small son. It was a testimony to the depth of love and devotion that we are able to summon up when called upon to do so.

Little Jonah acquitted himself admirably. He came to earth to achieve a body. He persevered. He endured. And then his mission was completed.

He returned and reported - and went on to his next assignment. His strong, sweet spirit still lingers here though - and we are assured that he knows of that love we could only shower on him for a brief time.

And we will share that love with others as a symbol of our remembering.

Services for Baby Jonah

Funeral services for Jonah Adam Terrill will be held on Monday, October 24th at 11 a.m. at the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 532 West Lemon Ave. in Monrovia.

If you would like to join us for this celebration of the life of this special little boy, you are welcome to come.

-Barbara

Jonah Adam

"He took their little children, one by one, and blessed them, and prayed unto the Father for them. And when he had done this he wept again; And he spake unto the multitude, and said unto them: Behold your little ones." 3 Nephi 17

I've been mentally composing this post in my head for a while now and trying to figure out what to say, so here goes. First, a story—I promise it's related.

The summer after my freshman year of college, I moved back to Monrovia to live with my parents and work for a couple of months. I was asked to be the Primary pianist at church, and my first Sunday playing was our family friend Adam's first Sunday coming to Primary. Adam was born with cerebral palsy, leaving him blind and mute amidst his many other physical challenges. The Primary chorister announced that the children had been preparing a special song to sing for Adam to welcome him to church, and that song would be "I'll Walk With You" (lyrics found here). I couldn't help but cry while I was playing the piano to hear the sweet voices of the kids singing these words—

            "Jesus walked away from none

             He gave His love to everyone

             So I will! I will!"

—and then I looked up to see one of the little girls I babysat put her arm around Adam and give him a little hug while he was sitting in his dad's arms. I think of this experience often, and of Adam's sweet, perfect spirit inside his imperfect physical body, and feel so warm and good inside.

On October 8th, my sweet baby nephew Jonah Adam Terrill was born with Trisomy 13. Our family has been anxiously waiting for months for his arrival, not knowing how long he would be with us because of his condition and the number of physical challenges that would be facing him upon his arrival on earth. I thought that I'd be planning a trip home for a funeral, but after talking to my family, I decided last minute that I should try to be there to see him, hold him, kiss his very Terrill nose, tell him I loved him. I was so, so lucky to be able to plan a trip home last weekend, when I got to hold the little guy, spend some quality time with all five of my siblings, and help my brother Harry and his family while they took care of baby Jonah. We celebrated the end of each day with another candle on Jonah's birthDAY cake. We all believed that Jonah was trying his best to hang on so he could meet the siblings that were coming from so far away to meet him, and he miraculously made it. It was a quick trip—I got home Tuesday night—and it all feels like a blur now.

Last night, I got a call from my sister Phoebe—while I was writing this post—saying that Jonah's mortal body finally gave in to the challenges it was faced with, and that he had gone home to live with his Heavenly Father. I have never felt so simultaneously happy and sad—happy knowing that Jonah's spirit and spirit body are perfect and that he no longer has to live on earth in discomfort, but so profoundly sad seeing my brother and sister in-law and their family suffer in this way. 

I do not often wax religious on my blog, but I think it's important here to note that despite our family's sadness, I ultimately take comfort in the gospel of Jesus Christ and in the knowledge that our families will be together forever. I take comfort in thinking of my sweet future children who will know Jonah before I get to meet them. I take comfort in the power of prayers. I take comfort in Jonah's brother Porter's words, who said that despite our sadness, "we can be happy because we will see Jonah again when we die." I take comfort in knowing that Jonah's physical challenges and my brother and sister in-law's grief and suffering has been felt by Christ and redeemed through the Atonement.

And I take comfort in knowing that Jonah and Adam—two sweet boys that I only briefly met—have touched the lives of so many people, near and far. I want to be a better person, cherish my relationships, and be as close to Christ as they were. 

And I will! I will!

 

-Hannah

Beautiful boy

Baby Jonah died yesterday.

(Jonah and his parents in the hospital, just after his birth)

I spent 3 days in California with my brothers and sisters and parents and nieces and nephews. All of us there got to hold him and kiss his little face.

I was intrigued to see how much like any other newborn Jonah was. He had many of the same reflexes. Most of his disabilities were internal, so he really didn't look that different. He didn't like getting his diaper changed. He cried when he was hungry. He couldn't see or hear, but he responded to his parents' soothing touch.

When my sister Phoebe called last night to let us know that Jonah had finally died, it was strange to jump back and forth between that intensely personal and spiritual world of Harry and Dawn's home in California, and the loud and chaotic world of kids shrieking and climbing all over me on my couch in Virginia. I told Theo and Ida that Jonah had died and reminded them that God had answered our prayers--his mom and dad had gotten to hold him. His brothers and sisters had gotten to hold him. Several of his cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents had gotten to hold him. Even I had gotten to hold him! Because my kids are bent on pulling me up out of sadness, Theo reminded me, "Now Jesus and Heavenly Father get to hold him." At some point, a "believer" has to decide whether his beliefs are true. So when Theo said that to me, I had to sit and ask myself out loud. Is it true? And the immediate answer--it is. Jonah had a purpose. He came to earth to receive a body and live his life. And he did.

I love what Katie's mom Pam said: "Jonah is a special blessing to all of us. He makes us appreciate what we have and know that there is something special about each moment spent here with our families." I love my family and am touched by the examples of loving and caring motherhood and fatherhood that Harry and Dawn are to me. I know they are so sad, but they are also so strong and good. Their home has been a special place to be lately. Jonah's first several days at home were pretty good (relatively speaking) though by the end, everyone was ready for him to go, as much as anyone could be in this situation. Every night his family sang "Happy Birthday" to him and blew out candles on a birthday cake (or brownies, or donuts). Every morning before school his brothers and sisters kissed him goodbye and then hello again every afternoon. In family prayer one night his sister Eve asked "that when Jonah dies we can be sad, but not too sad." His mom and dad rarely left his side. Every minute of his life somebody was holding him, dressing him, feeding him or changing him. I can't imagine that any baby has ever been so intensely, so thoroughly loved.

-Eliza

Jonah Adam Terrill

10-08-11 10:14 am ~ 10-19-11 4:30 pm

-Harry

Jonah

We just left the house - Jonah struggles with seizures and has trouble breathing - but he clings to life. The hospice doctor and nurse were there. They are angels - I cannot say enough good about them and their loving concern.

The children are doing pretty well - we are trying to keep their lives as normal as possible, and they show their love and concern in their own ways.

Food and flowers and love come daily.

And the "BirthDAY cake" was powdered donuts tonight - day 10!

Happy BirthDAY Jonah!!

-Barbara

Jonah update

It has been really lovely to have Eliza, Hannah, and Phoebe here to visit. Noah has come around often too, and Bonny came out today also. Noah has been good about helping us eat up all the brownies and cookies!! (And walking the dogs!)

Isla is a trouper - she's skeptical at first about the newcomers, but she can be won over. Here she is having a sweet moment with her dad - who has been pretty preoccupied with caring for Jonah. Dawn and Harry have been spelling each other in caring for the baby, and the rest of us have been trying to be there for the other children. They are doing well - their prayers and comments are sweet. Eve prayed that we wouldn't all be "too sad."

Eliza and Hannah leave tomorrow morning. They have both commented that they feel blessed and honored to have had the opportunity to interact with Jonah, and participate in his care.

His breathing is labored. He is struggling. We are not sure what he still has to teach us. But we are willing to learn.

And tonight we celebrated day 9.

Again, on behalf of all the Terrills, we thank you for your prayers and loving thoughts.

-Barbara