I need to follow-up on my post the other day, but really wanted to make sure that my words didn't just get lost in the comments section. I want ya'll to know that I realize some of my thoughts are irrational. That they don't make sense. That they probably, at times, go against what my God has told or promised me. That sometimes those thoughts are in total conflict with each other. That sometimes I just plain don't know what to think or how to feel. And I'm so grateful that the collective 'You' are there to point me back to His word, just hear me out, or share your own story.
Most of the time our blogs are like better versions of our selves. They are our best foot forward. Kinda like a first date. Or a re-touched glossy magazine cover. We try to leave a good impression and, maybe for some people, a different impression of who we really are. I've always tried to keep it pretty real around here, yet for a girl who's used to writing about new recipes or craft ideas, some of these posts are just down-right scary to publish. Even with many of my earlier thoughts on Olivia's diagnosis, her death, the grief, I've kept it........nicer. No need to make anyone squirm at their computer desk. But recently, two things have happened: I've run out of energy to make my posts nice and pretty, just to make sure no one is uncomfortable reading them, and secondly, I don't think God wants me to.
Letting you in close enough to watch me try to make sense of it all or give you a glimpse of my aching heart is....well...it isn't easy. It probably seems like a radical change from happy-go-lucky-suburban-homeschooling-mom to grief-stricken-brokenhearted-wrestling-with-God-mom. {Although much has changed, much of me has stayed the same & a lot of what has changed has done so for the better.} And even though some of what I write might seem totally foreign to you, I want to be transparent anyways. So that you have a glimpse into what I'm going through, if you're not familiar with this side of grief, in order to comfort someone else. So that if you are in that sad, painful place, you'll know you're not alone. That I am there. That He is there.
Judging from some of the more personal comments and private emails, I know this is how He wants me to continue. {For the record, it's not that I'm convinced that I am to blame. Just sharing that part of my process.} The journey isn't over. And so I'll continue to share it. Because even from that very first moment in the ultrasound room, I knew.
He chose me for this.
HE chose ME for THIS.
And I still believe it.
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8 comments:
Thank you for being honest and open. It helps me with the emotions that I have right now. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your life and learn from you.
Your honesty is beautiful. Always here, sending prayers
Those feelings of blame are sickening. After we lost our daughter to T18 at 23 weeks, I felt like such a failure. We both know that is irrational but it was my one and only task for her at the time--to keep her safe until time to deliver her into the world, and I couldn't even do that. Even after eight months, I still struggle with feelings like these--feelings that I know grieve my Father's heart because they are simply not true. Sometimes, my heart just can't hear Him through the lies.
I am so sorry that you are here in this place of grief, but thank you for sharing your feelings openly. I am praying for you and your family.
Dana
@Dana: YES! That's just what I feel sometimes. I know as Mamas we're always kissing owies, praying away the bad dreams, making it 'all better' for our kids. Then when something like this happens, we are helpless to make it 'all better'. Thanks for sharing your story. It means so much to me.
@stephanie: Thanks for your email. I will be writing you back as soon as I can.
@Nikki: As always, I know right where you are & will be here for you when you need me.
I think you so right. I do think God wants us to be honest and open about our suffering. It is God glorifying.
Even in our confusion and anger and hurt, we are turning to him...and sometimes even when we don't turn to him, we are admitting that we need to turn to him. It is so important to struggle!
I love your posts. Keep them coming!
P.s. I too wish we could just sit on a sofa somewhere and talk...for hours. It would be soooo nice.
Becki, At any givin point dont feel the need to try and make things pretty, because as I know IT ISNT PRETTY. It never has been and it never will be. They are your feelings and your feelings alone. NO ONE can tell you how to feel or change your feelings for you. THEY ARE YOURS. That is one of the many things that I learned and am STILL learning when it comes to the loss of Joey. Just so you know I am praying for you and your feelings about where you are at with Olvia.
Becki, At any givin point dont feel the need to try and make things pretty, because as I know IT ISNT PRETTY. It never has been and it never will be. They are your feelings and your feelings alone. NO ONE can tell you how to feel or change your feelings for you. THEY ARE YOURS. That is one of the many things that I learned and am STILL learning when it comes to the loss of Joey. Just so you know I am praying for you and your feelings about where you are at with Olvia.
I like you have blamed myself at times, even when deep down I knew it wasn't true. It was my placenta that failed, my body that got too sick to keep carrying her, and many other at faults I've come up with. I think we just need so badly to have an explanation for the unexplainable, that we will create one. Its strange how it makes us feel better, while making us hurt so much more than we should have to. I'm slowly learning though that really I had no control over this situation, but I do have some control over how I let it change me...and I so want it to change me for the good...and it is.
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