Sunday, February 16, 2014

February 16th, 2014

I guess I kind of decided to "end" my blogging.  But I'm not positive why.  Just because these posts don't go into our book doesn't mean they aren't helpful for me.

My "youngest", Andrew, turned 3 last month.  It was super tough on me.  As much as I've been prepared to expect hard times I am still surprised by them.

Just thinking "my youngest" bothers me.  My youngest isn't supposed to be 3.  My heart still feels like my youngest is supposed to be 18 months.

As these situations arise I feel myself trying to fend the thoughts and emotions off.  I try to reflect for a moment, but ultimately fight away the sadness.  I expect myself to be able to keep carrying on, being present. What I don't seem to understand is that Abigail is still with me.  That embracing my sadness, my confusion is "being present".

So I had another opportunity today to live in the present with my emotions.  I'm supposed to be a baby shower today (but I didn't have childcare).  Just before church started my friend told me she lost her baby.  She's 12 weeks pregnant, it's been a long 12 weeks with lots of complications and may ultrasounds telling her that everything was fine.  Just as she starts to relax and trust the pregnancy, she loses the baby.  My heart broke for her.  Then I sat down right behind a couple who just welcomed a child 5 days ago.

I was feeling overwhelmed by babies.  By the beauty and the pain associated with these precious blessings.

Then, as our pastor asked for prayer requests my daughter, Natalie, asked me to have him pray for Abigail.  I was paralyzed.  I didn't know how to raise my hand and ask, I had the fear that comes from being an adult.  So I encouraged Natalie that she could ask for the prayers.  Her little hand went up (being so brave because she was really feeling unsure of what to say), and I was so touched by her desire to pray for her little sister.  A little sister that she has never forgotten about and continues to miss.

That was the last nudge that I needed.  I just sat there with tears streaming down my cheeks.  I wish I could say I was feeling overwhelmed with gratitude for the opportunity we were given to love Abby, because I am. I wish I could even say that I was feeling heartbroken because I miss her so much, but I have so few memories of her that that doesn't really feel accurate.  My tears flow full of confusion.  I am filled with gratitude and with sadness.  But mostly I am aware of a deep void, unfinished business.  I was ready to love her for my whole life, I am still figuring out how to do that without her... without new experiences.

Oh, how I wish I could just hold her one more time.  Just close my eyes and feel her in my arms.  Just stare at her and breath her in.