Hard Days

I get asked the question “How are you doing these days?” a lot.

I have to be honest and say that most of the time I just gloss over the truth of how I am doing because 1) most people do not want to take the time to listen; 2) some really do not want to hear the honest truth; and 3) I don’t like talking about my sadness and losses with just anyone....it cheapens my experience and that bothers me.

Oh gosh, I can imagine it’s so hard to be on the other side of someone like me.  You don’t know what to say (usually just saying “I’m sorry” suffices) and you’re afraid to say something wrong (believe me, I heave heard it all...the only wrong thing you can say is “I understand what you are going through” when, in fact, you don’t).  

But I am thankful for the few close friends I have who will enter into my emotion by listening to me no matter what state I am in, which these days has been mostly angry sprinkled with tears.

I am in a hard season right now and have been having more bad days than good.  I try my best to stay on the sunnier side of things, but between the fact that I do not have a bent toward sunny outlooks and the reality of our circumstances, it’s easy to sit under a cloud and wait for more rain to come.

My sixth due date is coming up in just about 4 weeks and I can’t help but lament for my baby.  The time has gone by so quickly and it’s hard to imagine that we would have been getting ready to bring a baby home.  

The holidays are approaching and I always associate holidays with children.  

The three year mark of us trying to have a family is coming up in a couple of weeks.  Never in a million years would I have ever thought that three years from then we would still be in the same place as we are now.....only with more losses and less hope.

I feel left out.  I am at a stage in life where nearly all of my peers/friends have children and since we do not, there is a lot that we miss out on- parties, outings, conversations, you name it.  I am becoming more and more aware of this.  I guess I feel irrelevant- infertile and irrelevant.  I know that’s a lie (well, the infertile part isn’t) but it’s one that I am having a hard time not believing.

And this one is hardest and hurts the most- sometimes I feel so sad for my husband that he may never be a father to a child he can hold and talk to.  I hate that my body won’t allow us to bring a baby home.  I see how hurtful this experience can and has been for him since men are often forgotten in this journey and so few of them have the experience of friends truly entering into their sorrow.

I don’t like how tritely what we are going through is sometimes treated, like we did not get into the school we wanted and can always try for another one.  We may not have children, people.  That’s a big deal.  It’s a game-changer.  It’s a life sentence.

And I don't like it when others assume to know everything of how we are doing, what we are doing, what life is like for us, or how we are processing all of this just because they read this blog.  

There is a lot that I do not share on this blog (especially the medical parts) and what I do share is a glimpse into our journey that I feel led to share with the hopes that it may encourage, normalize, or educate someone.  

To that end, if you do read my blog and have along the way sent an encouraging note or made a comment, thank you.  I always appreciate your words and prayers.

So where is GOD in all of this?

HE is right in it with me.  I don't have to pretend with HIM because HE knows how I am feeling even better than I do.  HE knows these are hard days for me and I am so thankful that HE promises to stay with me in all of my days.

Our Fourth and Fifth Glory Babies

My Sweet Babies,

It’s been a year and a half since you left us and it’s taken this long for me to know what to say in the aftermath of losing you.  

There is so much I don’t remember about the time you came and then went and I think that had so much to do with the shock I was in and the deadening of my spirit that naturally comes with loss and anguish.  

One thing I know for sure is that having you and then losing you changed me and it turned what had been just a personal journey into something that is more like a mission- pointing others to their MAKER and HIS goodness and love for them.  

But that did not happen right away- that part of the journey took time to take root and become something beautiful.  First, I had to walk through a valley that was so wide and so deep and so long I was not sure I would ever come out of it.

Because I lost you I could no longer keep carrying on with life and relationships and pretend that I was okay because I wasn’t.  I wasn’t okay that death engulfed me; that people ignored what was happening; and that you left me.  I was crushed. hopeless. angry. 

And losing you forced the questions I needed to ask GOD and it brought to the surface so many doubts I had about who HE is- doubts I did not know were there.  

And so I did the only thing I knew to do and I stepped away from people, from work, from obligations and intentionally entered into a valley.  I needed space and time to figure out where to go next and I needed to be with GOD.  There was only one thing I asked of HIM- to meet me in that valley. to show up. to be present and near me.

And HE did.  Over and over HE met me in the depths of my despair and in the longing I had to be with you.  HE showed me HIS goodness and HE brought beauty where I did not think beauty could be found....beauty came from losing you.

You did not hold very much physical weight in this world, oh but you hold so much weight in my heart and that is what counts.

Babies, my heart still aches from the sting of losing you.  I wish you were here but I want you to know that even though we did not meet the way we were meant to and you did not change my life the way that babies typically do, you did indeed change me.

In your deaths I saw and tasted and heard and felt HIS goodness.  And because of you, my voice is stronger in a world that is filled with hurting people.

Someday we will meet and I will hold you the way that my arms long to, but until then the goodness of GOD is being made known to many and that, my sweet babies, is your legacy.

As your mom, I couldn’t be prouder.