It's days like today that make "moving forward" extremely difficult.
Nothing really happened -- just a mindset that digs in some days. One of those days that it seems everyone else in this world has some kind of joy that they feel they must rub in my face.
Oh, I know they don't actually rub it in my face. . . it just feels like that on my hard days. I know that those people feel their joy as fully as I once felt mine. And I know that I will again have a great joy in my life and I will spread it around -- and somebody out there will feel like I am the one salting their wounds.
It just seems like there's kids and babies and pregnant people everywhere...
I wish my emotions had a power switch.
I hate being like that. I read way too much into the smallest comments and conversations. But there are days when my heart is breaking all over again and my mind is on overload. I can't block the anger or the envy and I can't seem to build a dam strong enough to hold back the tears... Sometimes I just hate everybody.
I will one day be the envy of another person who is down and out... but I pray today that when that happens I keep in mind my days like today. I pray that I am kind and compassionate when I sow my joy; I want to eventually reap the benefit of feeling that person's joy when they are pulled from their own pit.
But for now, I shall lean against the wall of my deep well of pain. I await the day God's grace drops the rope down my hole - the day my joy is restored.
Please, everyone -- post your pictures, make your comments, spread your joy...
And I shall await that joyful day that I am in your shoes.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
New Car Blues
I woke up this morning at ten minutes after seven. So much for sleeping in on my day off. As I always do, I roll over and grab my iPhone and check my email and Facebook ... where I found a story so different yet so like mine.
I'd received word last week that a friend of a friend had lost their baby boy Hunter the day after our three month mark after losing Lia. His mommy's friend blogged his story HERE. Hunter was born at 23 weeks, just like my girl, and was lost due to the same issue.
And now, this morning, I found a beautiful family's story HERE. Little Maddie was here on earth for four wonderful months when she was taken home on the same day that Hunter was. Today is her funeral...
My heart broke into a million tiny pieces when I said goodbye to my Lia, and just as soon as I think I've found all the bits and are gluing them back together, tragedy strikes me again like a baseball bat to my newly put-together heart. However indirectly, these stories and those mommies have touched my heart and are forever etched in my heart.
For reasons unknown, I found my mind drawn to a seemingly distant memory of the day we bought my Blazer. Yeah, like the vehicle - just stick with me here. We drove an hour to look at it and I wanted it so we came home with it. It was like a shiny new toy that could fit five and had the cargo space of a small truck. I was so excited to drive it around and look cool again in a "new" car.
But soon after I began taking it to work everyday, the newness wore off. I thought I had something special with the bright red paint and the perfect silver trim... but I soon realized that I was not alone. I began seeing the exact same Blazer all over town, like someone heard about my recent puchase and just had to have one too. It's nice, and its new-to-us, but it's not anything different.
I feel the same about the loss of our children - we are not alone.
My water broke and Lia was born - Hunter's mom went through the same.
I lost the only daughter I had - Maddie's mom did also.
This situation - this incredible pain - is not new. Since the Fall of Man, this world has been completely screwed up. God made men and women true and upright; we're the ones who made a mess of things. (Ecclesiastes 7:26 the Message)
This world is not as God intended - and that small fact is now an amazing source of hope and peace for me. God didn't design this world to have mommies mourn their babies! God did not start this world with the thought, "Hmm, I think this place needs a little death and sorrow, don't ya think?"
We humans threw our little monkey wrench called sin into the plan and threw it all to hell - literally. But thankfully God is a master mechanic and brought us Jesus as a sacrifice to fix all that we had undone.
Our pastor, Brett Eubank, wrote this blog the day after my Lia was born. Death Spoils Everything.
Take a moment to read it and know that this is not the end.
I know in the deepest recesses of my soul (and sometimes that place is hard to find) that my darling daughter is safe in the arms of Christ, and is just waiting for me to hurry up and get there. I can see her playing ball with my mom's dogs, and running through the fields playing tag with Hunter. And now miss Maddie is coming to join the fun! Geez, now I'm jealous! : )
But I know that God had a plan built into our loss and our pain and this will not be the end! We can't see the end of this road, but only because there are a couple big hills in the way... if you can get over them and more of the path shall show itself.
Now, back to the car for a moment: I want to be different. I need to be different. It's the little quirky things about me that allow me to stand out. My Blazer seemed to make me blend in... and I hated that. So I made a window cling to look like my tattoo of Eeyore's tail and put it on the inside of my windshield so I can see it everyday and know that I am not the same - no matter how much it looks on the outside to the contrary.
In the same sense, we all want our pain to be different from those "other people" that have supposedly been through the "same thing". We don't want to hear about other people's pain - we want to stand out in our own. As comforting as it may seem for others to express their comraderie in the "I lost my baby" club, at the time it just makes you more upset. Like your child's death is not news - like it's just another run-of-the-mill event that happens everyday.
It does happen everyday - just like other people in this town own red Blazers with silver trim. But I can see the little thing that makes your situation stand out from any other like a special window cling:
No other mommy ever had Hunter.
No mommy on this planet ever had miss Maddie.
And not a person in this world was a mommy to Auralia Noel Mansfield. Only me.
Remember that your situation is not a new one - so you do have the love and support of many other moms.
But also remember that your situation is completely unique - no one will ever love your child the same as you.
If your heart is broken, you'll find God right there;
if you're kicked in the gut, he'll help you catch your breath.
-Psalm 34:18 the Message
I'd received word last week that a friend of a friend had lost their baby boy Hunter the day after our three month mark after losing Lia. His mommy's friend blogged his story HERE. Hunter was born at 23 weeks, just like my girl, and was lost due to the same issue.
And now, this morning, I found a beautiful family's story HERE. Little Maddie was here on earth for four wonderful months when she was taken home on the same day that Hunter was. Today is her funeral...
My heart broke into a million tiny pieces when I said goodbye to my Lia, and just as soon as I think I've found all the bits and are gluing them back together, tragedy strikes me again like a baseball bat to my newly put-together heart. However indirectly, these stories and those mommies have touched my heart and are forever etched in my heart.
For reasons unknown, I found my mind drawn to a seemingly distant memory of the day we bought my Blazer. Yeah, like the vehicle - just stick with me here. We drove an hour to look at it and I wanted it so we came home with it. It was like a shiny new toy that could fit five and had the cargo space of a small truck. I was so excited to drive it around and look cool again in a "new" car.
But soon after I began taking it to work everyday, the newness wore off. I thought I had something special with the bright red paint and the perfect silver trim... but I soon realized that I was not alone. I began seeing the exact same Blazer all over town, like someone heard about my recent puchase and just had to have one too. It's nice, and its new-to-us, but it's not anything different.
I feel the same about the loss of our children - we are not alone.
My water broke and Lia was born - Hunter's mom went through the same.
I lost the only daughter I had - Maddie's mom did also.
This situation - this incredible pain - is not new. Since the Fall of Man, this world has been completely screwed up. God made men and women true and upright; we're the ones who made a mess of things. (Ecclesiastes 7:26 the Message)
This world is not as God intended - and that small fact is now an amazing source of hope and peace for me. God didn't design this world to have mommies mourn their babies! God did not start this world with the thought, "Hmm, I think this place needs a little death and sorrow, don't ya think?"
We humans threw our little monkey wrench called sin into the plan and threw it all to hell - literally. But thankfully God is a master mechanic and brought us Jesus as a sacrifice to fix all that we had undone.
Our pastor, Brett Eubank, wrote this blog the day after my Lia was born. Death Spoils Everything.
Take a moment to read it and know that this is not the end.
I know in the deepest recesses of my soul (and sometimes that place is hard to find) that my darling daughter is safe in the arms of Christ, and is just waiting for me to hurry up and get there. I can see her playing ball with my mom's dogs, and running through the fields playing tag with Hunter. And now miss Maddie is coming to join the fun! Geez, now I'm jealous! : )
But I know that God had a plan built into our loss and our pain and this will not be the end! We can't see the end of this road, but only because there are a couple big hills in the way... if you can get over them and more of the path shall show itself.
Now, back to the car for a moment: I want to be different. I need to be different. It's the little quirky things about me that allow me to stand out. My Blazer seemed to make me blend in... and I hated that. So I made a window cling to look like my tattoo of Eeyore's tail and put it on the inside of my windshield so I can see it everyday and know that I am not the same - no matter how much it looks on the outside to the contrary.
In the same sense, we all want our pain to be different from those "other people" that have supposedly been through the "same thing". We don't want to hear about other people's pain - we want to stand out in our own. As comforting as it may seem for others to express their comraderie in the "I lost my baby" club, at the time it just makes you more upset. Like your child's death is not news - like it's just another run-of-the-mill event that happens everyday.
It does happen everyday - just like other people in this town own red Blazers with silver trim. But I can see the little thing that makes your situation stand out from any other like a special window cling:
No other mommy ever had Hunter.
No mommy on this planet ever had miss Maddie.
And not a person in this world was a mommy to Auralia Noel Mansfield. Only me.
Remember that your situation is not a new one - so you do have the love and support of many other moms.
But also remember that your situation is completely unique - no one will ever love your child the same as you.
If your heart is broken, you'll find God right there;
if you're kicked in the gut, he'll help you catch your breath.
-Psalm 34:18 the Message
Saturday, February 19, 2011
I Am Not Strong
"You're such a strong woman..."
Such a simple phrase that is packed with incredible meaning - one that has been repeated to me over and over in the past three months. It is a beautiful gesture of honor and respect and reverence for my situation, but the truth must be told:
It is not true.
Strength is defined as emotional toughness: the necessary qualities required to deal with stressful or painful situations. It's the people that take it all in stride and keep the ball rolling through thick and thin and all the hell that the world throws our way. It's those people who, no matter the circumstance, always seem to be smiling. Those people that can always think of something wonderful to say to someone in pain through the trials of their own.
That person, my friends, is not me.
Strength is nothing more than how well you hide the pain...
I may seem tough and strong to you, but I will assure you I am not. I can put on a smile and make small talk with the best of 'em, and I'm getting to the point that I can discuss Lia's birth with nary a tear. I will comfort those in need as I once was comforted, and I will continue to pray everyday for those on my heart. I will make these Kibbies to help heal a mother's breaking heart and I will feel mine break again every day as I remember what this project is actually for. I keep it all to myself most of the time - I prefer to tuck the pain away in the special room in my heart for Lia's memory, safe from any further scrutiny. I need to have that privacy, or my heart will melt out onto my sleeve and not a soul could put it back into my chest.
I will take the comments and compliments to heart, as I have each time those words have reached my ears - and I thank all of you for those encouraging sentiments.
I will not, however, allow them to define my world. I have since decided that there is no point to life without pain... for without darkness, how could any of us ever be found by the light? Without the rain, who could ever appreciate the sun? Without my daughter's death, would I have truly understood what it means to really live?
My daughter is the one thing in this life I have wanted for my whole existence - since I was a little girl my strongest dream was to become a wife and a mother. And now, looking back on the worst week of my entire life, I see now that my God has allowed me to accomplish both. My husband is amazing - standing by me through all of this -though not fully understanding but holding fast in the midst of our pain. And my daughter - my beautiful Lia - will always hold a special place in my heart.
I will always show you where to go.
I'll give you a full life in the emptiest of places -
firm muscles, strong bones. - Isaiah 58:11 (the Message)
Keep telling me I'm strong.
Keep encouraging me to continue.
Keep being there for me when I need you.
Keep that shoulder handy - just in case I need to cry on it.
Keep telling me that I am the strongest woman you've ever met ... Maybe one day I will be.
Such a simple phrase that is packed with incredible meaning - one that has been repeated to me over and over in the past three months. It is a beautiful gesture of honor and respect and reverence for my situation, but the truth must be told:
It is not true.
Strength is defined as emotional toughness: the necessary qualities required to deal with stressful or painful situations. It's the people that take it all in stride and keep the ball rolling through thick and thin and all the hell that the world throws our way. It's those people who, no matter the circumstance, always seem to be smiling. Those people that can always think of something wonderful to say to someone in pain through the trials of their own.
That person, my friends, is not me.
Strength is nothing more than how well you hide the pain...
I may seem tough and strong to you, but I will assure you I am not. I can put on a smile and make small talk with the best of 'em, and I'm getting to the point that I can discuss Lia's birth with nary a tear. I will comfort those in need as I once was comforted, and I will continue to pray everyday for those on my heart. I will make these Kibbies to help heal a mother's breaking heart and I will feel mine break again every day as I remember what this project is actually for. I keep it all to myself most of the time - I prefer to tuck the pain away in the special room in my heart for Lia's memory, safe from any further scrutiny. I need to have that privacy, or my heart will melt out onto my sleeve and not a soul could put it back into my chest.
I will take the comments and compliments to heart, as I have each time those words have reached my ears - and I thank all of you for those encouraging sentiments.
I will not, however, allow them to define my world. I have since decided that there is no point to life without pain... for without darkness, how could any of us ever be found by the light? Without the rain, who could ever appreciate the sun? Without my daughter's death, would I have truly understood what it means to really live?
My daughter is the one thing in this life I have wanted for my whole existence - since I was a little girl my strongest dream was to become a wife and a mother. And now, looking back on the worst week of my entire life, I see now that my God has allowed me to accomplish both. My husband is amazing - standing by me through all of this -though not fully understanding but holding fast in the midst of our pain. And my daughter - my beautiful Lia - will always hold a special place in my heart.
I will always show you where to go.
I'll give you a full life in the emptiest of places -
firm muscles, strong bones. - Isaiah 58:11 (the Message)
Keep telling me I'm strong.
Keep encouraging me to continue.
Keep being there for me when I need you.
Keep that shoulder handy - just in case I need to cry on it.
Keep telling me that I am the strongest woman you've ever met ... Maybe one day I will be.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
A Little Inspiration
This project has taught me alot of things about life and love and the little things.
LIFE is precious and fragile, and it is taken for granted so very often.
LOVE is simple and profound, and it is not taken seriously most of the time.
LITTLE THINGS are the stuff LIFE and LOVE are made of.
And I think I've been given the best LITTLE THING in the world!
I'd like to share a few little insights I've recently discovered, some teeny tidbits of hope in our dark days. They have helped me cope with my loss and to know that there is a purpose for that loss - no matter how much I hate that it happened. My hope is that this simple posting will encourage you in whatever dark days you are in...
He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it,
he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times
so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us.
2 Corinthians 1:4
He puts a little bit of heaven in our hearts so we'll never settle for less.
2 Corinthians 5:56
You did it: you changed wild lament
into whirling dance;
You ripped off my black mourning band
and decked me with wildflowers.
I'm about to burst with song;
I can't keep quiet about you.
God, my God, I can't thank you enough.
-Psalm 30:11-12
All the earlier troubles, chaos, and pain
are things of the past, to be forgotten.
Look ahead with joy,
Anticipate what I'm creating.
-Isaiah 65:18
Don't panic. I'm with you.
There's no need to fear for I'm your God.
I'll give you strength. I'll help you.
I'll hold you steady, keep a firm grip on you.
-Isaiah 41:10
May God bless you and keep you and bring you to the light again.
Remember He is always there, even on those days He feels absent.
And remember that you are never alone in that darkness...
For I am here as well...
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