When Glory Meets My Suffering

Saturday night we had a delightful dinner with friends. You know as grown-ups. No children menus. No trying to decide if mac n cheese or grilled cheese is more nutritious for your kid. It was so nice...and rare! Both of us realized neither couple had gone out with other couples in YEARS, like before we had kids years.

They are going through a loss as well and it nice to encourage each other in faith and frankly just vent and relax. They also have a scrumptious little 6 month old that crawled all over me and chewed my face. I now love getting my hands on a baby, especially newborns. I swear I almost stole a baby when I was in labor and delivery, unfortunately none in hospital were as cute as my Claudie so I went home empty handed.  I have heard it is called "empty arms syndrome". I hate to admit it but I sleep with a Claudette's elephant stuffed animal. At first as a way to splint the incisional pain, now as way to keep my arms from feeling empty. I need a bigger stuffed animal though. It doesn't feel like her since it doesn't come close to twelve pounds.

After about FOUR hours of chatting away, our friends needed to get their little one down and go home to their other children. We however, had Dustin's mom watching our kiddos overnight and despite wanting to crawl in bed ourselves, we decide to take advantage of the rareness of the occasion with a late-night cocktail.  We went to our favorite place for such a treat, McCormick and Schmidt's, not only for their AMAZING fresh drinks, but also because it overlooks the beautiful Plaza lights. So as I sipped my white sangria and Dustin his Bailey's and coffee we reflected.

White Sangria and Bailey's and Coffee...oh ya and dark chocolate espresso cake.

It was Dec 29th. Claudette was born and died on Nov 29th. One month had gone by. How differently we saw this month as going. My dear friend that went out with us to dinner gave us a card. Basically, it was a congrats card that we had made it through one month. That we were where we never thought we would be, but we had none the less arrived and God had seen us through and would continue to do so. It meant so much to me, not only had someone noticed the month of our daughter's birth, but someone had also acknowledged the struggle the last four weeks truly had been.

Then it hit me. She wrote that card so beautifully, because she had been there. She had traumatic events in her life that changed her similar to my change. No it wasn't the loss in the same form as mine, but it was loss and with the loss came grief and sadness all the same. After mom died immediately you know who has been there. You recognize it in their tone, their words and in their silent demeanor. It is club you don't want to join, but you have no choice. So you cling to others that have been there too. It is like it is your first day as a freshman in high school after being home schooled (I say this b/c I can related to that one) and you are looking for another person in the same boat. All of a sudden you see someone else with fear in their eyes and bam you are best friends.

I have thought a lot of how the parents of Sandy Hook first graders must feel. Logistically, their small little town was overwhelmed with death, so much that they had schedule their funerals two at a time. I imagine how they can't find solace in social media like I did, because instead of hearing only uplifting messages there were gun debates going on almost as violent as shooting itself.  I felt horrible for them...still do. I imagine they did as I did.  I imagine they looked around for that person that understands. I see them all clinging desperately to each other, saying little, crying a lot.

So as Dustin and I sipped on our cocktail we realized we are now people that others will search for during a tragic time. I felt the strong need to do something with this unwanted responsibility. I thought about writing a book, but let's be real, nothing I write would be published. (Heck, I have questioned comma placement 32 times in this post alone.)  So I thought about what I need. I want something real, tangible and daily that I could go to whenever I wanted to vent and read and interact. Thus, I have decided to start a grief blog. It may help no one but me, but I pray others will find it helpful on their journey to read about mine.

Here is an example of how we help each other in grief. As I was posting this blog. This song was sent to me from a new friend that found me in my time of grief, because her dear son was taken from her arms as well. I have heard the song a dozen times, but it has never meant as much as it does now.
Listen here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mxqfDs-64I0

 

Happy 2013

Today I read two books. I haven't done that, well, since I was competing for a free Pizza Hut personal pan pizza from Mid-Continent Public Library. Normally, I would be thrilled to have the time to do so...two toddlers leave little time for books other than Max and Ruby. But today it leaves me sad. Today, I should be consumed by diapers and nursing and chasing after her brother and sister. I shouldn't be cuddled up in bed reading grief books all day, while my husband keeps the kids at a distance. I shouldn't have time to read or sleep or eat. But I do, and too much of the latter.  I should be the mother of three kids not two.

It is officially the first day of 2013. A day I have longed for since the first few minutes of 2012, when I was cleaning up after a three year old sick little boy with the stomach flu. Boy, I had no idea what 2012 really had in store for me at that point.

Later on in January, I had to have gallbladder surgery. Again, at the time I thought horrible.

February kidney stones that resulted in my blockage of my right kidney and therefore a 3 day hospital stay.
 
By March I was done. We had been trying to recover from the miscarriage of identical twins the July before and were desperately trying to conceive. Another failed pregnancy test! I threw in the towel.

Then April hit and my period didn't. PRAISE GOD! Things were turning around. 

Then May and BAM! My mom whom had seemed to be doing better from an autoimmune disease and was finally an official candidate for a kidney transplant, took a horrible turn for the worse on Mother's Day.  A week later she was gone. Mother's Day was the day I was to announce publicly  I was pregnant. Instead, it was a day spent holding the phone to mom's ear so she could say "goodbye" to her other 6 children out of town.

June I started bleeding...bad. I had never had a bleed like that before and Dustin and I were sure our little button nose was gone. Thankfully, it was a fairly common issue in pregnant women and only resulted in bed rest for a few weeks. I laugh every time I hear that word "bedrest". As if it is possible with toddlers.

The following months of the summer were riddled with various "bumps".  Not the least of which was a massive outbreak of lice which traveled amongst the grandkids who all slumbered together for mom's funeral. But we tried to remain strong and overall were doing pretty good despite the huge hole my mom left with her absence.

By August it was decided it was best to stop working long 12 (actually 13) hour night shifts. Financially-strained is nice way of putting it.  

Fall things seemed better. I LOVE fall. We did all the usual things that a 7/8month preggo can do. October we celebrated the Amelie's birthday then our anniversary two weeks later.

Then November. Once my favorite month. My birthday on the 16th was spent at the funeral of my husband's beloved grandma. Dustin tried desperately to make the day special for me but at this point there just seemed to be too much grief (we also lost a great uncle, 2nd cousin, and dear family friend) and the first birthday without my mom was just too much. I was sick of explaining death to my kids. Thanksgiving came and we were ready to RELAX. Relax we did and plenty of it. We had a lovely day and spent the whole weekend taking the kids to Santa, putting up a tree and having a blast. I was SO happy. I was to delivered in 6 days!!! I had no clue my little button nose had died sometime between turkey and putting up Christmas lights. So now November marks death of our daughter.

December marks her funeral. A funeral that my father was forced to miss because he had to have immediate open heart surgery.

I write all this not to depress you (and me) but to outline why I am so done with 2012. But now it is 2013 and nothing magical happened at midnight. I didn't call my mom today and tell her Henry vomited again this year too. I don't get to snuggle with my daughter and feed her. Instead, I read two books. I watched the kids sled outside sad that I couldn't because I was still healing from the physical scars.  I listened to Dustin tell me about how our final working bathroom no longer works because of a huge plumbing issue. And I would be lying if I didn't say I am sad and overwhelmed already this year. But I also realized something: this earth is temporary, so we must take every second to live in the moment and use it for the greater GLORY! Who knows 2013 could be worse than 2012 and maybe 2014 will be the worst yet in terms of our earthly pain and suffering. Despite all the pain 2012 gave, it taught me intangible lessons about myself. Lessons one does not learn when blinding going through life.  One day SOON we will be re-united with our lost loves and that gives me great hope, but for now I am on this beautiful earth with my beautiful loved ones for a reason... So HAPPY 2013!

 Henry and Amelie ringing in the New Year