Spent most of the day with mom. It was so good to have her here, she cried with me. Snuggled with me. Did my dishes, watched a movie with me and cried some more. Then Michelle came over briefly and shared with me in my pain. Now David is home and the day is drawing to a close as the sun goes down. The last light of 2012, tinged with pain and sadness. David said that he did not realize how traumatic a miscarriage was till now. He knew it was bad, and knew that they hurt, but not how traumatic they truly were.
I gotta say though, in these deep darkness of moments. Perhaps what should be the darkest and saddest I have ever experienced there is a beautiful light in it all. A beauty of love, however short that is recognized. There is a beauty in grief and mourning. There is especially a beauty of feeling the comfort of being lifted up by the prayers of family. Lastly there is this special comfort in knowing that we are not the only ones grieving the short life of our little baby. May sound almost mean, to be happy that others are sad as well. But there IS comfort in knowing that others share your joy and also share your pain. Knowing that in these incredibly sad moments, that we will never forget, there will also be memories of those who mourned alongside us. For that reason, I am so very grateful that we told our family yesterday. Even though they only got to celebrate the life for a few hours before it was over, they too participated in the joy. Now they too are participating to a certain extent in the grief as well.
So how does this work? Will I feel up to work on Wednesday? How long does it take a heart to heal from this? I know I will feel it forever, but I mean how long does it take before every few hours, no, minutes you don’t get choked up in tears at another memory of what was or could have been? One of the things that keeps choking me up is the emptiness in my body physically. There was something there before and I could feel it. I felt it’s presence. I felt it’s effects on my body, preparing me to be a mother. Now there is a noticeable emptiness. A dull ache, but no longer full.
in the AM
Happy New Year! Well "happy" might not be the best description. More like hey, it’s a new year and now my blank calendar isn’t going to have any of the things on it that I was so excited about just a few days ago. The place where my baby was still aches. I still bleed. Otherwise I might have been able to wake up this morning and feel like it really was a new day and a new year. But the pain of last year remains. The emptiness in my body remains, and the sadness in my heart has healed slightly but is still fully there.
Thank you so much for family though! Last night was one of the most sad and beautiful times out family has shared since maybe my Grandma’s passing. We decided to still have our family over to “celebrate” the new year. Although we all knew we wouldn’t be staying up till midnight, and we knew we would barely think about the new year.
To kick off the evening at 7, I tried to keep back the tears through the hugs and consolations. But my family wasn’t there for fake smiles, they were there to love and comfort me and David. They were there to grieve and mourn with us. They huddled around us as close as we could all get and we prayed. They prayed for comfort, and we all cried. We cried and let the Holy Spirit intercede for us with the words that we lacked. It was a very comforting, healing experience. To celebrate a life so short that we loved so deeply while it lasted. Then to just as deeply grieve its loss. I kind of wondered if it would matter much to others. I even wondered if a baby so tiny could have a soul and be in heaven. Have I mentioned that I’m pretty sure I saw my little baby?...about the size of a blue berry...could have been something else though.
But it mattered so very deeply to them all, or at least my pain did. So our new years celebration consisted of a different kind of celebration. Did you know that grieving and crying can be a celebration? I don’t think I realized it till last night. Our mourning and sad time together was a time of deeply remembering and celebrating my tiny little baby's short life and the impact and joy it brought us all in the little time we knew about it. Our deep pain was proof of the love we all shared for it. How can we love so deeply in such a short amount of time? I loved (as far as I consciously knew) for a week, but I think the pain of that love will last MUCH longer and it will be a memory never erased. Makes me consider the blog post I wrote a while back about how it is better to love and and have lost than never to have loved at all. At points I wish the baby had just never existed so that there would be no pain, in other moments I am glad for the chance to love so briefly and the little happy memories.
Throughout the day this song is on my mind, and rings so true.