It's amazing to me how I can be going along, minding my own business feeling pretty great and then WHAM something happens and I react to that something in a very nonsensical way. I mean, I consider myself to be a very sane and normal person, yet my reactions can sometimes be crazy. Well, I know and I hope other people know too, that I'm not crazy, I'm just dealing with loss. I'm glad that I'm able to recognize these feelings and I hope that in the future I will be forgiving and much more caring towards others who are struggling with their own losses, whatever those losses may be.
Yesterday I had my own little pity party for a while. It was horrible. It hurt. It was just for me. Why? Because I was asked not to bring my children to the blessing of my nephew. It was a perfectly reasonable request, it is flu season after all and this nephew of mine will be just a few day old on the day of his blessing and we should try to limit the amount of germs with which he will be brought into contact. Easiest way to limit germs- limit kids! That's right. Understandable and perfectly reasonable. But my kids are kind of like my teddy bears right now, they are a bit like my security blanket. They are proof that I was once able to make beautiful babies and I guess the thought of not having that proof with me while being around a brand new beautiful baby, well it kind of broke my heart. My first reaction was "Well, if my children aren't welcome then I am not going, Ken can represent us" and then I realized that my reaction was a poor one and I found a place for my children to be while Ken and I attended our nephew's blessing. But that didn't help my heartache, heartache is just something I get to figure out how to live with.
I think what confused me the most about this situation was how quickly I went from feeling fine, feeling on top of it, to feeling as though I was drowning and no one was trying to save me. Picture yourself in a small boat out on the open ocean.This is your life. Sometimes the water is calm, sometimes storms rage, but you have your boat and you know you will make it through safely. You may get wet, sometimes you may not feel like you are headed in the right direction, but, day in day out, you have your boat. Now, imagine that for some unknown reason you lose your boat. Most days the water is calm and you are very good at floating. You also know how to tread water, so you are okay when the water gets a little choppy. You are tired, but your head is above water, and that is really all you can ask for. You are grateful for everyday you can keep your head above water. Stormy days teach you that you are strong, you may find yourself below water a few times during a storm but you probably also saw the storm coming and you were prepared to fight a little harder to keep your head up above the surface. Eventually you know you will find your boat again, you will be dry and you will be able to rest. Eventually.
Most days I feel like I can see my boat, I'm even sometimes able to cling to it's side. Yesterday morning I felt great, it was a clinging to the side of the boat kind of day, then I got hit by the rouge wave of grief. It might have been the first rouge wave I've dealt with- because it threw me for a loop. I wasn't prepared. I don't know how I could have been prepared. I am grateful that I was able to find my bearings and follow the bubbles to the surface of the water.........and start treading again. As grateful as I am, I'm also tired. I want my boat back.
So, that's a little glimpse into my head, I'm guessing that my struggle is not to different from anyone who is dealing with loss. We all know people who are dealing with different kinds of loss. Heartache and heartbreak come in so many different forms. People I love have different losses than I do but they are just as painful and hard to deal with as mine. Whether it be loss of a marriage, loss of the ability to have children, loss of health, loss of a job or any other loss, all of these things have the ability to spin us around and make us lose our bearings, maybe even capsize our boats and force us to tread water for a while. I hope and pray that I can give the love and support that my loved ones need should they ever find that their boat has gone missing. I hope I can help them keep their heads above water. I hope I can remember that they aren't crazy, they are just normal, precious people, struggling with loss.
And those are my thoughts for today. I think today is going to be a better day, even if it is a treading water kind of day.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
And you have to deal with that loss.... My mom told me about being at a class for dealing with PMS, and they had everyone visualize being in the mountains as a relaxation technique, and she started bawling. She realized that she had never dealt with her feelings over moving away from her family and the home she'd grown up with (in Utah, hence the mountains). Anyway, I think you're doing a good job working through things, even if it means you have some sad days. You can do it, Kate!!
Oh Kate. I wish I could say that I didn't know how you are feeling, but I do. There are still days, even though I am pregnant, that I start to think about the one specific day that I got the phone call from my nurse telling me that I had lost the baby after our third and final round of invitro. That pain is so intense, and is a pain you will never, ever forget. It still brings me to tears because I have never felt as low as I did that day. I still mourn the loss of the babies that are not in my home. And it's okay. How can you fully heal without going through that mourning process? And when you get pregnant again, and are one day holding that baby in your arms, you will thank the Lord for teaching you what he has. There are lessons you are learning that you never would have without this trial you are going through. I love you tons! And I feel bad I have not been there for you more. Please know I am always here to talk or listen if you need anything! *Hugs*
Post a Comment