Last week, we found out our little “peanut” (as we affectionately named it) had no heartbeat.
Another devastating blow. To be given fresh hope and healing only to have it so quickly stolen again.
I was still terribly sick everyday, even after our sweet baby had no heartbeat. Talk about extra depressing. To be throwing up all day everyday for no reason whatsoever. Yesterday, I had surgery.
Today, I am recovering.
This has been such a horrible year. Sigh. Part of me feels like I can’t go on. Another part of me wills me to look ahead to healing and to see what God has in store for us. I will focus on good things. Playing and enjoying my children. Restoring my health. Loving on my husband. This past year has revolved so much around me, it will be refreshing to focus on my family and friends instead.
Something good has to come out of this.
It’s strange, on one hand I have never felt so alone. It feels as if no one can possibly understand this pain. The kind of pain that hurts so much, you physically can’t breathe. Your heart literally skips beats. To feel completely rejected by God. To feel isolated from family.
And yet, I have felt more loved on this past year than ever before. Close friends became closer. My husband and I went through awful things and drew together instead of apart. I saw the best in him and he took such good care of me.
I treasure my relationships.
Especially those who have been there for me to cry with, or just vent.
And the ones who have loved on my children and watched them when I was recovering.
The many, many meals that were so sacrificially brought.
Those who came to be by my side when I needed them.
Those who pulled me in as part of their family.
The ones who just let me be…me. In grief. In pain. Without judgement.
We haven’t even made it to our sweet Andrew’s due date, and we’ve already lost two babies.
I will recover. Both physically and emotionally.
But the grief will never end. The tears will still flow. My heart and arms will ache with emptiness. And I will never be the same.