Lifelines...

I've started writing blog posts several times over the last 10 days, but nothing I started ever seemed to get finished.  Maybe that's how it goes sometimes when you're grieving?  Harris and I are still grieving the loss of our 2 little ones, but we are working and trying to hold it together as much as possible.  There are moments, like tonight at Bible study when the leader prayed that God help us to remember that His plan is perfect, where I want to rage and scream because I've recently had a heart to heart with God that said just the opposite.  Or, moments when a friend tells you (in the midst of same Bible study) that her daughter miscarried over the weekend - BEYOND hard not to tear up in that moment.    Nothing about this loss has been easy, and I can't sugar-coat it just to make it seem like we're doing well with everything.  In fact, we're not always doing well with it.  Sometimes we're downright furious/broken/terrified/lost in the wake of recent events.

Remember that our other 2 miscarriages were not pregnancies that we knew about until I was losing them - there wasn't the same amount of time to bond and celebrate little milestones like the arrival of eyelids or elbows.  That said, I wanted to share a few things that are helping on our journey to heal this time around. 

• Emails from others in blogland with phone numbers and offers to call them to talk if I need to.  That's beyond-words generous in spirit, and I am so humbled by the willingness to let someone call you just to cry or yell or whatever.  It's a rare gift to have people who are open to being that vulnerable with you.  THANK YOU!

• Words from a friend who, in the midst of her own emotional rollercoaster, somehow made time to email words of compassion to me along with her new cell phone number attached - how in the world did she manage to find time and strength to comfort me when she's dealing with so much herself???  You continue to amaze me, and we will see you all next month when we get up to VA!

• Friends met thru surrogacy in real life who I feel a connection with so deeply that it's my honor to be a part of their lives.  To have lost a child yourself, handled it with such abiding grace and respect, and be willing to share that tender bit of your heart with me is more than I would have ever asked.  I can only hope for Harris and I to come thru this with a fraction of the grace you've shown.  Ethan is truly a lucky little boy to have the two of you!

• The comment that struck me in both the heart and the head from that last post:  "Make yourselves do something each day which you enjoy, though I expect you may feel like punishing yourselves, try to limit that."  Never, in my entire life, had anyone pointed out to me that the things I do to deal with grief are punishments I impose upon myself.  I have always known that I carried blame for things around me - what child from a dysfunctional home doesn't - but to have someone actually say that...wow!  It was truly freeing, and I actually was able to put somethings together in my mind, and more importantly my heart.  This really is NOT my fault.  This just simply, is.  Thank you for saying that - it's because of that comment that I really feel like I am grieving now instead of wallowing in guilt and punishing myself for this loss.  You will be happy to know that I have slept, watched mind-free tv, read a book about acrylic painting, started a new novel and looked at painting classes in my area.  I am trying to be kind to myself!!!

• Music has also helped.  I've always been more likely to watch a movie or read a book than listen to music.  But, there have been a few songs that have been marking my transition thru grief stages.  Obviously, I started out with Louis Armstrong's "Nobody Knows" (because I still have a sense of humor buried deep inside somewhere).  Now, I've moved on to "Let It Hurt" from Rascal Flatts, and soon I hope to be all the way to Fun's "Carry On" because I do recognize that little glimmer up ahead as the light at the end of the tunnel.  

THANKS FOR YOUR KIND WORDS!  They are truly a great comfort to both Harris and I as we continue trying to heal because we know we're not alone.  

We may be down, but we're not out...