My husband knew better than I did what would happen once all the effects of the anesthesia wore off and the mental busyness of the past week settled down.
I had my first official really bad day this weekend, during which all I wanted to do was lay in bed and sob silently, and be held, and listen through the open window to birds chirping and my kids playing. No television. No books. No phone calls.
All that talk about bible verses and Jesus holding my baby? Of course they’re still relevant, but they don’t seem to have quite the impact they did 5 days ago; my body is just bound and determined to cry it out. No more chin up.
In church I hear the words “Give it up to God; just give it to Him.”
How? I confess I don’t quite understand that phrase, at least not in this instance.
I say this because I think it’s easy for people to get the impression that God takes pain away completely; that I am strong and calm and rational even in the face of tragedy–I’m very much not. I am comforted, but I still cry and I still want my baby. It sucks and it hurts and I still ask the questions that I feel like I should already know the answers to. It doesn’t matter if I ever have another baby or adopt more children–I wanted this one.
The medicine wears off. The fog lifts. My body heals up. My family moves on and life does not slow down. But it feels like this loss will hurt me forever.
Yesterday I cried even in my dreams. Today I only cried in the shower. Tomorrow I will go to work, make dinner, clean the house, and take Merrick to t-ball practice. Maybe I’ll paint a little bit. Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll have another down day. Maybe it won’t happen for another month or so.
I know there’s something to come out of this besides unbearable sadness and disappointment. I know that God has a plan and that He is with me, leading me and loving me, through this time.
The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18