For those of you, like me, who are burdened by the heaviness of grief…and rest for your soul is hard to find in the tears and sadness, the anger and questions not answered…
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
-Matthew 11:28-30
When we lost our little boy, Calvin’s Hats quickly sent a baby blue knitted hat that fit his gestation age perfectly. We cherish that hat more than we can say. Here is the website: http://www.calvinshats.com/default.html
Recently, I read my “About Me” page and I laughed bitterly as I read the introduction of a mother who was brave and strong and certain. Even the name of my blog seems to mock me. Esther was strong, courageous, and she appeared at peace. She changed a nation.
Here I am feeling battered and bruised by grief. Uncertain and fearful. I feel as if I don’t matter any longer. I’m just surviving every day. Days spent in tears, not in victory.
But then I think, maybe I can have a heart like Esther. I can bravely face each day without the child I should have in my arms. I have not shut myself off to love-instead I have embraced my children even more strongly than before. I gaze into their eyes even more deeply, longing to learn and memorize who they are.
Every day, I can find strength I don’t have and courage that isn’t there to lay aside myself and my pain to take care of those in my care and do it joyfully. I can find more compassion and grace in everything. And maybe I can change a nation-everyday I pour into others-especially those given in my care.
So maybe having strength and courage isn’t always some big thing that everyone acknowledges. Maybe its in the small things that make up our lives. A heart that has a sense of destiny-a heart of Esther.
I wish I could say the past year has been horrible but I’ve been able to just bounce right back. I’ve always been a fighter, I’ve always looked at the positives in life, I’ve always felt I could take anything and come out on top. I’ve always been resilient…
But not this time. I’ve felt as if this past year has been me struggling for air, trying to find who I am again (because I honestly don’t know anymore) and trying to move on past all the heartbreak and trauma but never seeming to really be able to. This year has been a year of loneliness-mostly my fault because I’ve pushed everyone away because I feel so all alone-that no one understands me. Almost all my friends who became pregnant after our loss decided in their own heads that it would be hard for me to know they were pregnant, so they just avoided me. Don’t they understand, hearing someone is expecting doesn’t change that my baby is gone. I want my baby, not theirs!
All I really want to do is close the blinds and snuggle deep into my bed covers. But there is no rest for a weary, grieving mother of children. There’s no escaping myself. It’s hard to explain, maybe unless you’ve been there, but going through almost losing your life and losing your baby’s life, has left me with so much anxiety, at times I can hardly handle life.
I feel like I need help-but what can anyone do? All of this is so very deep in my heart. I keep waiting on Him to fix me.
Grief has changed me.
Those who are worn out and crushed by this mourning, let your hearts consider this:
this is the path that has existed from the time of creation and will exist forever.
Many have drunk from it and many will yet drink.
As was the first meal, so shall be the last.
May the master of comfort comfort you.
Blessed are those who comforts the mourners.
– Jewish Blessing of the Mourners
There is a beautiful picture in the Psalms, of God collecting each of our tears in a bottle (Psalm 56:8).
mourn with those who mourn (Romans 12:15)
I know I’m not forgotten, Lord.
That you see my anguished tears in the quiet of the night.
You see my heart.
You know my anger. My sadness. My regret. The emptiness I feel.
You know how desperately I miss my little Andrew.
How every day, I see him in my mind’s eye among us. Or rather, the shadow of what should have been.
You record each tear (Psalm 56:8)
Bring healing, I pray.
Fill this void within me.
Help me never to forget what desperate pain feels like. So that I may always have compassion and grace.
Remind me of my needs, so I can strive to help others in theirs.
Happy Mother’s Day to all you Mother’s who have carried babies in your womb but lost them! We will carry joy from receiving the gift of becoming a mother, but a deep ache of not having that child here with us now...
I know my posts have been a bit few and far between these days…
It has been difficult for me to put so much into a few words. And there has been much that is so deep and so personal and raw, that I cannot share it, but for a couple of souls.
I was so grateful to hear from a reader-you know who you are! 🙂 You encouraged me so much and reading your post was like a glance into my own soul.
Yes, life has been a battleground lately. I’m at that place of true forgiveness…and yet, the evil one still brings those feelings up now and again. There are days I feel like I’m back at square one. There are days that I feel like more than a conqueror. Days when I am resting in His perfect peace and nothing will ripple the calm of my soul…
Lately, there have been many days of brokenness. Simply crying out to Him. There have been health issues, surgeries, and obstacles that keep getting in the way of my body healing from both losses. It feels like the storm hasn’t ended. I have felt like the disciples on the boat, in the middle of this terrific storm…wondering why Jesus is sleeping??? My anguish echoes David in Psalms “Attend to my cry; give ear to my prayer which is not from deceitful lips.”
And then I realize He wants me in that place. To understand, for His Glory, that I am desperate and helpless without Him. There are so many walls, so many layers. He is renewing me. It is a time of amazing growth. Just as I have come up for air and feel like I’ve learned and been renewed (new wine cannot be poured into old wine skins), He seems to find it perfect to teach me more-and back under I go. A time for peeling away the old-like an onion whose outer layers need pulled away. I have been growing and learning and deepening my relationship with Him.
It’s been a heart-wrenching time and yet, this time has held such sweetness in it as well…
I know why I am at this place. I am to be in a place where I know it is only God who delivers. I know the Lord hears my cry “Call upon Me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify Me.” (Psalm 50:15)
Throughout the Word, I see time after time that there was a period when individuals or nations cried out in desperation. Psalms is full of David’s pleas-asking the Lord if He will not turn His back on him, if He will hear his cry.
And I feel peace because I see that time and again, the Lord did respond. He did deliver. He did heal. He answered. He restored.
“I waited patiently for the Lord; and He inclined to me, and heard my cry.”
Psalm 40:1
Today is Andrew’s due date.
I knew this day would come and I knew it would be hard. The last two weeks have been terribly difficult-knowing I should have been delivering him soon. I’ve tried to carry on with day-to-day life while fighting back tears all day. I think it’s the most difficult in the moments you realize it actually feels like someone is missing in your family, in your home. The face you aren’t kissing, the baby you aren’t holding, the one you aren’t setting a place for at the table. ..
They say the hard times show you what you’re made of. They peel back layers to reveal your true colors.
I can say this-I’m still standing firm in Christ. Though I have been shaken, I have not been moved.
I have not allowed the ugliness of bitterness and anger to grow in my heart.
I have chosen to not be offended by others.
I have embraced surrender.
I have forgiven.
My heart aches daily. But I don’t want to walk away from this pain not having learned and grown from it.
I value my relationships more. I enjoy the living of life more instead of looking for what I can accomplish. Our family has grown closer and stronger. I admire my husband more than I ever thought I could. I’m thankful for all the blessings in my life. I am choosing to thank God for the ways He works in my life-even in the bad things-and even if I don’t always see the fruit yet.
It’s funny how hard times brings out others true colors as well. The people who surround you who have been supportive and show they care. Who have been there in any way they can. The awkward ones are the ones the friendships have drifted apart. And that’s all right.
It’s like roses and fruit trees-when you prune them in the winter, they produce better and more fruit in the spring.
And I am thankful for those God has brought into my life and made me who I am.
I said to my good friend the other day-when you face opposition, where you stand becomes so much clearer. Sometimes, you don’t even know where you stand until the opposition comes.
So I surrender myself to the Potter’s Hands. The refiner’s fire doesn’t burn so badly when I am willing to be more easily shaped and molded. I humbly yield my rights to Him.
Andrew, my sweet baby, I miss you and love you. I wish you were here with me.
But I know the Perfect One holds you.
And it will be all the more sweet when we meet again…
Every day, questions run through my mind…
Will this baby survive? Is everything all right? What if I have to endure losing a baby again?? Can I handle it?
I am quieting the fears and worries of my heart. I am enjoying each day with this gift I’ve been given. I am thankful for the hope this baby restored in us after losing Andrew, even though I still shed tears for him every day.
And I will choose joy. It’s there, peeking through the clouds. Will I be too timid to allow it to warm my heart completely?
I have not been given a spirit of fear; but of power, love, and a sound mind.
“Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up. You will increase my honor and comfort me once again.”
(Psalm 71:20-21)
I don’t expect much from others. At least, I don’t think I do.
I believe my expectations are minimal and reasonable at that.
I don’t expect them to know what to say. And I do not get angry when they don’t.
I understand they may feel awkward with the subject, especially if I allow a tear to fall.
I don’t expect them to say the right thing. And I do not get offended when they do not.
I don’t expect others to say or do anything to fix it.
I expect people to understand that even though I have other children, it still hurts just as much to lose one.
I don’t really even expect anyone to have to listen to me talk or cry. I haven’t expected or relied on anyone to be there for me. I feel blessed to have a husband who has been so wonderful through this. I’m genuinely touched by those who have had the courage to reach out. I am especially thankful those dear friends who still seek out my company and don’t expect anything from me. If I cry, that’s alright. If I act normal, that’s alright.
I don’t expect any “help” to get over this. One thing I’ve learned is that there is nothing anyone can do to repair what happened or the way I feel.
I, however, do have certain expectations for myself. I expect myself to get out of bed everyday and take care of my family even when its difficult. I expect myself to have a roller coaster of emotions, but to still have a center-a grounding, if you will-in Him that brings me back. I expect that even though I get angry, its my responsibility to not allow the anger to overtake me, or the bitterness to set in. I expect myself to count my blessings, and focus on what I do have and not dwell on what I’ve lost. I expect myself to still try to be the best mother and wife I can be.
But is it too much to ask that a family member not call you crying and expecting empathy because even though they were “done” they are pregnant again??? Didn’t it even cross her mind how thoughtless and insensitive to complain to me might be right now? And on top of it, get irritated with you though you’ve graciously listened and encouraged, when you point out that the morning sickness will only last a few weeks?
Or, even though you haven’t once called anyone when you were upset, that maybe when you are angry and having a bad day that they be there for you-especially your own mother?
Or, when you DO call another family member to cry that they would just listen to you instead of being offended at your hurt or anger? And maybe not be so uncomfortable with the hurt that they begin talking about unrelated things to the point you do not even get in a word?
My days are filled serving others (gratefully-I’m SO thankful for my family) but sometimes, to just be able to rest…
or have a thought to myself…
Or cry without the children watching you, concerned…
Or be angry for one morning…
Or be able to sit down and do nothing because you are so sad that its difficult to do anything?
Maybe this is why I am filled with anxiety.
Because I need to be able to release some of this hurt but it’s difficult to find an outlet?
Are my expectations really too high?
I am continually touched by my children’s hearts through this grieving process. They are raw and real as they speak of their little brother. They grieve as much as we do. They wanted another brother or sister so much! They were SO excited for him to come! They cry often. They pray for another baby.
It’s very difficult to put into words the depth of the pain that is in my heart. My heart is completely broken. The circles, the ebbs and flows, the intensity, the numbness…
Some days I’m SO angry at God. WHY did He allow this?? The anguished cry of my heart repeats…what did I do wrong? The beautiful part of having such a loving Savior is that I can have my moments of anger and he covers it. I can question Him, and He allows me to. Some things coming out of the grief of my soul may offend others, but He is not offended. He is still there, waiting for me.
Other days, I am at rest (purposefully, not naturally) in knowing simply this: He is GOD. He created me. He created Andrew. Who am I to tell Him what to do or question Him? Even if His reason does not seem right to me-who am I? In His Almighty wisdom and power He can do what He likes.
Before the mountains were brought forth, or you had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God. (Psalms 90:2)
So that’s where I am today.
Trusting and resting in His understanding because, honestly, I have none…
We carry you in our hearts...
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Heart of Esther 