Grief is a crazy thing. It's one that many people experience but at the same time we have trouble entering in to someone else's grief with them. It's a scary place to be. It's a vulnerable place where words fail and intention is everything.
I've been on a roller coaster. Yes, I am deep in grief. But, I also have a one year old who requires my attention daily keeping me from getting swallowed in that dark place. Life goes on and it must. Gideon has no clue what's been going on other than the fact that mommy is losing it sometimes and he gets to watch a lot of Elmo. Thank goodness for Elmo. But, in all honesty, I'm so glad he has no clue. His heart and mind have been protected but more selfishly, he has been his same smiley and bubbly self which brings me to a place of joy.
Sometimes I don't know what I should be feeling. I know it's wrong, but I wonder if people are appalled that I can go to the park and smile with Gideon the same week I lost my baby. And even worse, I wonder if people are thinking that I should hurry up and get over it. But, if I have learned anything up to this point it is that grief can't be rushed. I'm reading a book by a woman (quoted below) who lost her baby the day she was born. She talks about how grief and joy often dance together. It's OK. They are allowed to.
I thought I was making it, but then I was overwhelmed with the physical pain. The worst pain I have felt in my entire life. And I have given birth. Maybe it's not fair for me to compare the two. It might not have been worse, but in my mind I knew that there wasn't a happy ending to this pain so it felt so much worse. The entire ordeal is gruesome and I understand why women don't like to talk about it. It hurts me to imagine women going through this multiple times.
I stood in the shower at one point begging the Lord to take away the pain and end it all already. I asked him to take the cup from me and promise me I would never have to endure this again. It's funny how we promise the Lord we won't ask for anything more if He just does this one thing. I remember pleading with Him for a baby in the first place and saying if he made me a mama, I wouldn't need another thing in life. He gave me Gideon, yet here I am on my knees again. And I know He understands.
He has been speaking to me in so many ways. Messages from friends who share their heart and experience with the same loss. Some three times over. Scriptures at just the right moment. And then this,
However easy it may be to allow myself to wail over my loss, it is a far more satisfying thing to believe that all of this is a brief season. The Lord I have placed my trust in tells me that I will see my child again, and while He stands beside me, He weeps. He doesn't weep at the barren ground, nor does He mourn the browning branches. He cries because I can't see what He can. And in the fluttering of the breeze, with my heart pressed to His, I can hear Him whisper, "Spring will come, my love."
- I Will Carry You by Angie Smith
I know the Spring will come. I know He will sustain me.