I just want to point out that this blog is here to help me sort through my feelings and possibly help others through my experiences. What you see, for the most part, are the bad days. I think the fact that I hadn't posted since December of last year speaks volumes. Things are busy here. I'm teaching my three oldest while taking care of Henry (8 months old tomorrow!) I have lots of good days now. We have settled at a new church and have gotten down to the business of getting to know the people there and seeing where we fit in. Every time we hear our pastor preach we take one more step toward healing past hurts. He has reminded us that Nathan's loss is not our fault. It's not a sin on our part that caused it like has been suggested to us in the past. We are reassured over and over that what happened at our previous church is not our fault. Sometimes the worst sinners are in the pulpit.
I have struggled over the past few months in my relationship with God. I have questioned His character and my own worthiness of His love. I have been reminded that God is not human and we cannot use human standards to understand His ways. I have learned that I need to rest in Him and stop trying to earn my way to Heaven. I can't do it. Jesus did it for me. I am weary. I needed to hear that. I needed to rest. I needed to escape the legalism I thought I had already left behind.
This blog is just a small part of my life. People need to know that what they are feeling is normal. They need to see that there is no time limit on grief. There is no map to get through it. You don't wake up one day and say, "That's it, I'm done grieving." It is a process. I can say that the farther out you get, the farther apart the bad days are. I can tell you that what you feel is normal. Don't let other people tell you how to grieve. Don't let anyone else tell you when you should be done. But take care not to get stuck in your grief. Grief is a journey and progress should be made. How much progress is an individual thing. You may take one step forward and three steps back sometimes. That is okay. Just take it one day at a time. Some seem to be over a loss quickly, others are still grieving years later. Grief is messy and very personal. I share my journey, but it is solely mine. Your journey will be different; it has to be. I just hope and pray that you will read my journey and get some comfort from it.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Why, God?
I am struggling this week. We got pregnant with Nathan in March of 2010. That makes this month hard. And I am struggling with why this had to happen. I wonder if the purpose is to help other moms who lose their babies. So when someone announces a pregnancy I am simultaneously happy and scared. Will this be the one I am supposed to help? So, when someone goes through their whole pregnancy and have the end result of a healthy baby I am relieved. That happened this week. I think, "Not her," and I breathe a sigh of relief. And I wait for the emotional roller coaster to start again. I pray hard for pregnant women and their unborn babies. I hope that I am wrong and I never have to help someone else through this. I'm not strong enough. I still hurt too much. I'm not sure the pain will ever go away. How much help would I be to someone if I'm crying too hard to comfort them?
When we went through the trouble at our previous church I wondered what the purpose was. Now that we're out I can see clearly why it happened. We're at a healthy, thriving church filled with loving, Christian people. We are out of a very toxic environment. It is very clear why that happened. A year and a half after losing Nathan I still see no big purpose to it. No why, just pain and more pain. Sure, there are little things here and there; things Nathan taught me, but all I can think is, why couldn't I have learned these lessons another way? Why did it have to be through losing him? People tell me, "oh, maybe Nathan had something wrong with him and that's why he's gone." What they don't get is I loved him anyway. It sounds like they are telling me I'm better off without him. Never. People think it's okay now that Henry is here. I love Henry. I would die for him, the same as I would Jack, Anna, or Katherine. And I would have died for Nathan, too. I want the impossible. I want Henry and Nathan, too. No parent should ever be left here on earth while their baby is in the grave. And I'm not sure I will ever fully understand why this had to happen. And I pray with each pregnancy I learn about that it does not happen to them. It's a pain I wish on no one. It's a pain I wish I didn't have to experience. I still miss him everyday. Why, God? Why do you get to hold him and I don't?
When we went through the trouble at our previous church I wondered what the purpose was. Now that we're out I can see clearly why it happened. We're at a healthy, thriving church filled with loving, Christian people. We are out of a very toxic environment. It is very clear why that happened. A year and a half after losing Nathan I still see no big purpose to it. No why, just pain and more pain. Sure, there are little things here and there; things Nathan taught me, but all I can think is, why couldn't I have learned these lessons another way? Why did it have to be through losing him? People tell me, "oh, maybe Nathan had something wrong with him and that's why he's gone." What they don't get is I loved him anyway. It sounds like they are telling me I'm better off without him. Never. People think it's okay now that Henry is here. I love Henry. I would die for him, the same as I would Jack, Anna, or Katherine. And I would have died for Nathan, too. I want the impossible. I want Henry and Nathan, too. No parent should ever be left here on earth while their baby is in the grave. And I'm not sure I will ever fully understand why this had to happen. And I pray with each pregnancy I learn about that it does not happen to them. It's a pain I wish on no one. It's a pain I wish I didn't have to experience. I still miss him everyday. Why, God? Why do you get to hold him and I don't?
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