Knowing Doesn't Mean It's Easier

One month since we sat at the hospital, waiting for Brody's arrival. I've physically recovered but the pain of the emotional recovery has just begun. Knowing what it takes to get from here to truly being ok, makes it even harder. Knowing the pain I must face and ultimately embrace, doesn't make this less overwhelming. Grief is something you never become an expert at!  Yes, I've learned a lot since losing Curtis 7 years ago. I've learned that letting others into your pain and accepting the help and love offered is necessary. I've learned that there will be days that I'm not ok and it is ok to feel that way. I've learned that no matter the emotion, the thought, the feeling, it is valid and worthy of embracing and processing. I've learned that no matter how hard you try to believe the truth about your circumstances, you will always have a hint of guilt and self doubt. The what-ifs become less intrusive into your daily thoughts but they will always be there.  

I've also learned that there are genuine, loving people in this world. Some friends might have disappeared through the worst of times but there are a few that have been faithful in their support and love. Being there for someone who's grieving is hard work. Grief makes you self focused and usually disinterested in functioning in society. I'm so thankful to have had a few friends that have pushed into my heart and thoughts over the last year. Their persistence has kept me from staying in my dark place for too long. Their texts and calls have been invaluable. 

When you're grieving and depressed, you hope to just vanish into your world and never need to function in society again. Each group of friends holds its own set pain. None of it is by intention or even always rational, but it's there. Facing society after a loss is some of the hardest grief work. You know you're not emotionally stable and there's no predicting what might bring on the unstoppable tears. There isn't anyone in my circles that would mock my pain but there is a tendency, in society as a whole, to avoid painful situations. My tears and deep pain aren't easy to see and accept. Each time I've been in the process of reintegrating, it's inevitable to be in public places and on the verge of tears. It's obvious from the look on my face or even the tears streaming. I'm so grateful for anyone who has overcome the uncomfortableness of being in my hurt and giving me that hug. The hug that says, it's ok to be hurting and it's ok that you're struggling to even be here. The hug that says, I love you enough to come into your pain and hold you. 

The grief will never go away!  I will always miss my babies and long to have them in our home. The wounds begin to heal but the scars will always remain. That in itself is another battle to face. The tears become less which often leads to guilt. The tears and the very few memories with our babies is all I have of them. How does a mama strive for recovery and better days when it feels like the very process is inching out the reminders of your child?!  Finding the balance isn't easy but it's possible. The grief journey continues and some days, like today, will bring extra tears. Many thanks to anyone who has touched my heart throughout this process. 

Here's the song that my kids were singing after VBS this week. I haven't listened to it for a month, and on purpose!  I messaged the children's director to let her know that I had a love-hate relationship with VBS. Love that my kiddos were learning one of my favorite songs but hating the fact that I couldn't escape them singing it. Hard to embrace the phrase "your love never fails" when I'm in my phase where I feel like He has failed me. 

https://youtu.be/QYCJ8EvkGCs