“I get knocked down, but I get up again.  You’re never gonna keep me down.”

I never thought a song like “Tubthumping” would ever come in handy during the biggest trial of my life.  But that’s the line that keeps running through my head during some of the most difficult times.  Who new some of the most comfort could come from a song about getting drunk?  No, really…I find most of my comfort from more inspirational songs and passages from the Bible, but I find it humorous that I often find myself humming the Chumbawumba tune.

This past week has been the most difficult one since discovering we were going to lose our baby.  I think it’s gotten harder because I expected it to get easier…if that makes any sense.  I thought that by now (or much earlier), I would be better.  I thought I would be able to live my life with Hosanna as a memory.  I didn’t know things were going to be this hard or last this long.  Now, I know in the grand scheme of things, it hasn’t been that long.  But to me, it feels like I’ve been in pain forever.  I have had trouble remembering when I felt happy and difficulty seeing the happiness that will come again.

Last week I fell harder than I’ve fallen before.  I had four really good days, and then I got knocked down so hard, I thought I had broken every bone in my emotional body and that I couldn’t get back up again.  I had moments (many of them) when I felt God had abandoned me.  I felt that He was throwing dirt in my eyes, water up my nose, and salt in my wounds.  He was trampling on me…at least that’s what it felt like.  There were a few days there when I really couldn’t gather myself together.  I mean, I had a few minutes, sometimes hours, when I felt okay…but even during those times, I had this looming feeling of despair.  Those were the darkest days.  That’s when I really felt like the sun wouldn’t shine again.  That this was going to last forever.

But then those days passed, and the sun did shine.  It’s shining right now!  Spring has come, if for no other reason than to give me hope.  God has pulled me out of the depths of my pain.  God sent amazing people to me.  My husband, my mom, my dad, my in-laws and all my family, my church, my friends, my boss, my coworkers, my counselor.  Anyone in my life has helped me.  You have helped me!  Even if we’ve never met, you’re helping me right now by reading my ramblings.  Thank you for helping me feel the sun.  Thank you for bringing God’s love to me.  Thank you for letting God use you…even if you don’t know that He is!  If you’re in my life, if you’ve helped me…you’ve been used by God!  Thank you.

Several people have expressed concerned (and rightfully so) for me and my emotional/mental health recently.  I know my blogs and Facebook updates have not been the cheeriest lately.  I’ve come to realize that the only times I’ve been posting updates have been when I’m down, BUT I wanted to reassure everyone that I am not always down (although, if I was, I think it would be somewhat justified).  Mostly, the only times I’ve felt the need to write something have been moments of sadness.  However, there have been several days of being okay, if not good.

Yesterday was a good day…I felt somewhat like my old self.  Work was good.  It was the first day I didn’t cry at some point.  For the most part, I felt comfortable working with my students, and I actually had moments of confidence (which used to be common).  After leaving work, I had a reassuring doctor’s checkup, wherein she told me that everything looks good physically, and that what I’m still feeling emotionally is completely within the realm of normal grief.  We left that appointment with much relief.  Today has been a good day, as well.  The sun is shining and there’s a hint of spring in the air.  Although this morning I felt a little uneasy, the day has turned out to be a good and peaceful day.

With that said, tomorrow may be a harder day, and I’m prepared for that.  Tomorrow is March 5th, which is one month from the birth and death of our sweet Hosanna.  In some sense, I cannot believe it’s been a whole month, but in the other sense, it seems like she’s been gone for an eternity.  I am geared up for it being very tough tomorrow, but I have felt more hope in the past couple of days, so maybe it will not be as tough as I expect.  But, if it is is as tough as I expect, I know it’s okay to cry.  It’s okay to take a few steps backward if need be.  But I also know that’s okay to pick myself and keep going, and that does not mean I love Hosanna any less.  Moving on with my life does not mean I don’t miss my baby incredibly much.  But I can’t be sad forever, what good does that do?  I can choose to let myself feel happiness (which I have).  I can choose to let myself have hope for the future (which I do).  I can choose to get on with life…and I do choose to get on with life.

Easier…not really

March 1, 2010

Everyone keeps saying, “every day will get a little easier”, but that’s not my experience.  Every day is its own day.  Every day is different.  But each day is not easier.  It seems as if I take a step forward one day, and two steps back the next.  There’s been two okay days in a row, and then the third day I get knocked back down.  Just when I think I’m starting to feel a little better, it hits me a again.  I don’t know what to expect from moment to moment.  Sometimes I can be having a good time, and then a thought of Hosanna enters my mind and I get overwhelmed.

I’ve never experienced such a life altering tragedy, so I’m not sure how I’m going to continue grieving.  Each day I battle with myself.  Should I be more over this than I am?  How long will I be so sad?  When will I stop crying so much?  Should I see it as this…Gosh, it’s already been a month…  or  Wow, it’s only been one month…?  All I know is that I’m not over.  I’m still grieving.  It’s harder, but easier at the same time.

I’ve learned to not expect too much from myself.  I shy away from having too much confidence in being better.  Not that I’m not confident that I can’t or won’t have better days…I’ve just learned that I can’t assume that because I have one good day, every day from there on out will be a good one.  When people ask me how I’m doing and I say I’m doing well or okay, I always want to tag on, “right now”.  Because I may not be doing so well if they were to ask me again in 10 minutes.

But I guess, overall I’m doing pretty well.  There are still hard moments, many of them…and I know that’s okay.  It’s okay to cry.  It’s okay to admit that I’m hurting.  It’s okay to not be 100%.  It’s okay to not be okay.