Thursday, April 29, 2010

Fragile

I held a newborn tonight.
Her soft, downy head tucked under my chin and it took all I had not to cry.
I didn't want to make it about me, when I was happy to hold this new baby, happy for the joy she is bringing to her family.
But it brought back that ache.

I had to tell someone the other day that I had a miscarriage. I didn't have to tell many people because of this blog and my mom making the phone calls for me. It was just something I couldn't face in the beginning.
He is one of my friends at Trader Joe's. I love them there. They know my kids. They know us. They know we were having our 4th baby. He asked me if this baby was treating me differently than the others. He felt so bad when I told him. it told him it was OK. We talk about it a lot with the kids. But it still hurt to say it.

I thought I was pregnant this month. I was exhausted. I gagged while brushing my teeth. I felt nauseous. My body doesn't play tricks on me. I was so excited to tell the boys. They have such a simple and solid faith in the fact their new baby is coming.
I'm not. And I'm sad.
Even though it would have been another surprise. Even though I don't feel ready for it yet. Even though I am still mourning the loss of this one. Even though a lot of things, I still felt sad.

The boys asked me yesterday, Mommy, when we get our new baby, is it going to die?" I told them I hoped not. I really, really hope not.
But we don't know.
Because life is fragile.

I guess that is the other thing I am struggling with. There are times I feel very fragile myself. Emotionally I mean. This is the first time in my life that I have dealt with this kind of thing and it is not fun. It is not easy. I have such high highs and the kids and I are all laughing and it is glorious. And then I will feel like ripping my hair out because it is taking them forever to get into the car. The intensity of my emotions startles me sometimes. I have such a greater understanding and sympathy now for those who deal with this often, daily even. And I think that God has used this to open up my heart a bit more to the pain of others. So that I can help them, maybe. Even if it is just by saying, "I know how you feel".

There is not a single thing I can do to change this. Death and sorrow, highs and lows are a part of this life. But I can choose to focus on the beauty of this fragile life, or the frailty of it.
I can find joy. I can stop and pray. I can take my lids for a hike, because being surrounded by His creation is one of the healing balms that ministers to me most.
I can cry, but I can laugh too.
It is ok to do both.
I'm learning this.
Thank you for reading. Thank you for letting me share my heart, both glad and sad.
Greta

3 comments:

Betsi said...

Greta,
I thank God for you, sweet friend. For the way he orchestrated it that you would walk into my "shadow of death" moment like a promise of his compassion. The way that I began to read this blog and fall in love with your family, to ache for your hurt, and then to be a bit more prepared, having walked it with you, when it was my turn.
Thank you for reaching out to me. Thank you just for being honest and beautifully you in your writing. Reading your blog during this season in my life has been a comfort to me. I feel so much less alone because I know that there is a friend who will write down what is in my heart also.
I also understand that fragile desire for a baby, but the fear of being hurt again and also the wish to grieve the one you lost properly. How we are suprised and shocked by a sudden pregnancy and broken by the loss. How a desire we didn't expect to feel again is fresh in our hearts because of the pain.
Love to you and yours. I still pray for you nearly everyday.
Betsi*

katie said...

I love the honesty of the situation that you share with your boys. It shows that when one person in the family is down, that it takes everyone to lift them up. It will happen. Allow yourself these moments.

hereamiphilippines said...

I know how you feel! praying for you! Love and miss you!