Feelings
When I first started to find my bearings in this time of grief, I realized that I am not in control. I felt exactly like I was being tossed around by waves of grief in a sea of emotion. These waves would come whenever they wanted and I was powerless to stop them.
Then I thought back to when I went in to labor with Isabelle. I was laying in my bed feeling completely helpless and overwhelmed. Then I realized that the contractions were like waves and if I just gave in and let them wash over me I would be able to make it to the other side. When I was able to relax and just take each one as it came, knowing it would take its course and pass, I was able to endure.
The feelings of sadness are much the same. If I allow them to work through me instead of trying to control them, I can endure.
In my sea of emotions, not all the waves are sadness. I float for long amounts of time filled with a sense of well being. I spend time contented thinking of my precious daughter in heaven and my wonderful family here on earth. I have no doubt that I am a woman truly blessed.
Tonight I even feel genuinely happy. We had wonderful friends bring us tasty food. Their visit was uplifting to my soul (the brownies and ice cream may have helped as well). The kids are off to bed and I am off to snuggle my husband as we let our minds vegetate in front of the TV. Life is good.
And if I wake in the morning and pass by the changing table full of small pink baby wear or am overwhelmed by the demands of the children combined with the ache in my heart, I know it is only a passing moment. It is a moment when I can truly learn that in my weakness He is strong. A moment where I can find a place of belonging, love and support among the people who care about me. A moment where I gain an appreciation for all the joyful moments of life because I realize how truly fragile it is.
Though weeping may endure for the night, joy comes in the morning. Thanks friends for reminding me that I don't need to rush to the morning. It will come when the time is right. In the meantime, I have confidence that I do not face the dark of night on my own.
Then I thought back to when I went in to labor with Isabelle. I was laying in my bed feeling completely helpless and overwhelmed. Then I realized that the contractions were like waves and if I just gave in and let them wash over me I would be able to make it to the other side. When I was able to relax and just take each one as it came, knowing it would take its course and pass, I was able to endure.
The feelings of sadness are much the same. If I allow them to work through me instead of trying to control them, I can endure.
In my sea of emotions, not all the waves are sadness. I float for long amounts of time filled with a sense of well being. I spend time contented thinking of my precious daughter in heaven and my wonderful family here on earth. I have no doubt that I am a woman truly blessed.
Tonight I even feel genuinely happy. We had wonderful friends bring us tasty food. Their visit was uplifting to my soul (the brownies and ice cream may have helped as well). The kids are off to bed and I am off to snuggle my husband as we let our minds vegetate in front of the TV. Life is good.
And if I wake in the morning and pass by the changing table full of small pink baby wear or am overwhelmed by the demands of the children combined with the ache in my heart, I know it is only a passing moment. It is a moment when I can truly learn that in my weakness He is strong. A moment where I can find a place of belonging, love and support among the people who care about me. A moment where I gain an appreciation for all the joyful moments of life because I realize how truly fragile it is.
Though weeping may endure for the night, joy comes in the morning. Thanks friends for reminding me that I don't need to rush to the morning. It will come when the time is right. In the meantime, I have confidence that I do not face the dark of night on my own.
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