A Very Thoughtful and Sweet Gift

My Aunt Kathy sent us a beautiful gift in the mail the other day.  She said she kept coming back to it and knew it was meant for us. :)  I really love it and am glad she sent it.  Thank you, Aunt Kathy!!


http://www.sympathysolutions.com/catalog/item/just-the-same.html

Its a glass plaque and it looks just like the pic above and says:

Just the Same

I never got to hold you & bounce you on

my lap, I never got to read to you

or watch you as you nap.  You slipped

away so quickly, before I said your name.

And yet I want the world to

know I loved you just the same.

Anne Peterson

Wondering and sadness

Yesterday was Brea's 2nd birthday and it was a neat time just celebrating her.  This past few days has been hard, though.  I've been in a really bad habit of going to bed super late and getting up super late and throwing off our routine and just being out of sorts.  I've been really sad a lot, too, mostly at night.  I think that is why I've been going to sleep so late, sort of trying to keep myself occupied enough to not have to get overtaken by grief. It definitely caught up with me today, though.  I've been crying off and on all day and just so, so sad.  I was trying my best to get to bed at a decent hour so that I wouldn't be so grumpy  tomorrow, but I can't stop thinking about my little boy.  I keep thinking what does he look like?  Does he have red hair like Brea and Braden or does he have dark brown hair like Zekes and Ailey?  Or is he an anomaly with blond hair?  Does he have freckles?  Is he fair-skinned or darker?  What does his voice sound like?  Is he funny or serious?  I wonder if he is full grown in heaven or is he a child?  I ache to hold him and spend time with him and just be in his company.  It makes me so sad that he isn't here to laugh and play around with his brothers and sisters, get irritated that they have a toy he wants to play with and just do life with us all.  I miss him so much.  So much.  I miss all the things I won't get to do with him.  He won't have birthday parties or turn 2.  He won't have first words or learn to crawl and then walk.  He won't learn his abc's and then learn to read and write.  He won't draw me pictures to hang on the fridge.  I grieve for the loss of all of that.

I had a friend share that as for the losses that she has experienced, it has actually gotten harder as time has passed because there are experiences you want to share with that person and you just can't and its heart wrenching.  My new reality is that my kids' birthdays will be both happy and sad occasions for me because Moses won't ever be that age and his smiling face won't be in the pictures with his brothers and sisters.  Its a painful and challenging perspective to have.

Sadness and relief

I went to the funeral home today and picked up Moses' ashes.  The heart capsule is bigger than I expected and heavy for its size.  I was also given the cremation tag.  It may sound strange to want to keep something like that, but its just one more thing having to do with him that I can have as a keepsake.

I was glad to be able to have his remains in our care, but I nearly didn't want to go because it meant that it had really happened and that there was a finality to it all.  I think when we bury his ashes at some point in the future, I will encounter this emotional dilemma again.

When I got back out to the car with the box in my hands, I just broke down.  It still hurts so much.

I haven't said what funeral home we used because I was waiting for the entire process to be completed.  I want to say that we had the best experience possible under the circumstances, I believe, with Heritage Funeral Home in Harker Heights.  Both the funeral director and office manager were open and honest and very caring and not emotionally detached, yet still professional.  That's a pretty amazing mix in my opinion.  Even if they had not been the least costly place to use, I would have gone with them because of their manner in relating with me and my family through all of this.  I hope to never have to meet with them to use their services, but I am grateful they were available for when we did need them.  I'm also grateful they are both women.  I don't think I could do what they do, but being able to relate to women in this situation made all the difference for me for sure.

When I got home, I gave the box to Sam.  He was able to grieve a little more as well.  I'm grateful we are in this season of our lives in the grieving process and not in an earlier one.  I don't think we would have handled it anything like we are now.

There have been a few days where I think I must be getting used to all of this somehow.  That I am starting to incorporate the fact and reality of it all in who I am now and my life in general.  I think that is happening to a degree, but the tears are always right under the surface.  I'm only one reminder or thought away from sobbing or tears coming in streams.  The loss and ache isn't gone, though I think I'm handling it differently now.  I find myself not wanting to cry, to be done with that part of it, but at the same time not.  I don't want to leave this time behind me.  I don't know that that is really ever  possible.  It is again an encounter with a sense of finality and I'm just not ready for that yet.  I want to be able to come to a place where my emotional awareness and response to it all is not separate from everything else.  Right now its a bit compartmentalized.  I don't want to be around anyone because I still want my grief to be private.  I don't want to have to make an emotional expenditure to explain why I'm sad or to encounter and respond to someone else's pity or sorrow for me and my loss.  It makes me weary and exhausts me to make those connections with others right now.

Don't get me wrong, I'm so very grateful there are so many hearts that care for mine and what I've lost, but at the same time, I nearly don't want to share it.  Its mine and I want to take the time to keep it for me for a while.  I don't know if that makes sense to anyone other than me.

Its a strange thing to want to have public outings or events proceed in a normal manner as far as everyone else involved is concerned and yet not have any sort of expectation on myself from me or anyone else to respond in my usual way.  I don't know if my usual way will ever quite be the same again anyway.  That will get worked out in time, I'm sure.

I'm finding it difficult to be in corporate worship just yet.  My mourning hasn't been turned to dancing or my tears to joy just yet.  I believe they will be in a way at some point.  I feel cut off from my heart joining with every one else's for now.  I don't think that's a bad or wrong thing for this part of this season, just a fact of where I am in my process.  I'm good with that.  I still need time for some things to be able to "be" in me in a peaceful and content way.  I think that's what I'm looking for.  A change from my current state to being content with all that has happened.  I don't know what that looks or feels like for me, yet.

Okay...

Today was the day our baby's body was available to be released from the hospital lab.  I had an emotional day Sunday because I thought the release date was actually yesterday.  Initially, after I went through the miscarriage, I was pretty upset that Moses' body had to be kept at the hospital lab for 14 days and we had to wait to put his little body to rest.  Now, after that amount of time, I nearly don't want to have him go to get cremated because I feel like I am losing him all over again.  I keep having these momentary feelings of sheer panic like somehow I can run far enough away to where this isn't really happening.

Today, after talking to the funeral home, I found out that they are concerned that there won't be enough ashes because his little body is so small.  It was suggested that I bring a blanket with me when I come in tomorrow to finalize the arrangements.  So, I spent all day today finishing crocheting a blanket to be wrapped around my dead baby's body to make enough ashes to put into an urn.  Its not fair.  Everything inside me screams THIS IS NOT RIGHT and I just feel messed up.

During that call, I asked whether it would be possible to get his footprints and possibly take a picture.  They said the footprints shouldn't be a problem, though he might be too young to have actual lines and ridges.  The picture, however, is a wait and see.  She didn't want to promise that if his body hasn't stayed well preserved.  I will know more tomorrow.

I'm not alright.  I'm okay with being not alright.  I'm broken and hurt and in process right now.  I'm okay with that, too.  I cry often, but I am able to laugh, too.  I ache with wanting what I can't have right now.  I want to have my baby here with me alive and well and growing in my body and all of us looking forward to his birthday when we can meet him and hold him and be part of his life and growing process, but that's not going to happen.  I'm not okay with that, yet.  I may be someday, but not today.  I feel like ages have passed since all of this started and yet its only been a little over two weeks.  I feel worn and emotionally and physically ragged and sucked dry of normality.

I could play the blame game.  I could be mad at God that this happened, but I can't.  I know my God.  His heart is breaking right along side mine.  This is an injustice and I serve a just God.  This isn't His heart or part of His Kingdom.  This is destruction.  That's satan's m.o.  I'm not ready for all out war, yet.  I'm still grieving heavily, but I sense in my heart that there will be a day when I will be ready to go after miscarriage with a focused passion.  It just shouldn't be allowed to exist.  Its on the same plane with cancer and anything else on death's team.  It needs to be taken out and replaced with LIFE!

So right now and for as long as it takes, I'm going to be okay with not being okay.  I am going to be okay with the sadness and the tears streaming down my face and sobbing when I get overwhelmed with missing my little boy.  I'm also going to be okay that my life has to go on even though his is not.  It is okay that there are still things that are funny to me and make me laugh.  I have an amazing husband and 4 kiddos here with me now that need me to not be destroyed by this.  I need to not be destroyed by this.  That's a good thing and that's okay, too.

Loss and Heartache

I had a miscarriage on Saturday.  There is so much to write down, but I don't know if I'm ready to do all that yet.  I'm still processing.  This baby, whose body here is no longer alive, is fully complete and alive and in the glorious presence of our Daddy God.  My heart is so, so heavy and sadness washes over me in continuous waves.  Sometimes, it hits me like a ton of bricks, brings me to my knees and I have a hard time catching my breath.  Sam has been amazing.  He's fine with me just stopping to cry and get it out.  Sometimes he cries with me and he's always got his arms ready to hold me in my grief.  I don't know how long the mourning will last before it turns to joy and beautiful thoughts about a sweet person we have to wait a while to meet face to face.  I'm so grateful for our friends and family who have just poured out loved and blessing and prayed for us continually.  So grateful....