How it feels to be me, within my grief

When I run into people who know and they ask the simple, yet complicated phrase, "How are you" my heart wrenches to tell the truth.  But instead, to spare the other person from the uncomfortable awkwardness that is my reality, I lie, and say that "I am doing great" and thank them for asking.

The truth is, I'm not.  The truth is, I am learning a whole new normal.  The truth is, our lives will never be the same as they were before we became pregnant with our little Dallas.

Congratulating friends and family on their wonderful blessings is now bittersweet.  There is a twinge of guilt and jealousy with each new arrival.  Our son never got to be welcomed joyfully-at least not here on earth.

Walking down any particular isle at the store, especially one that is stocked with baby items instantly brings a flood of sadness.  My son will not be needing these.

Driving in a parking lot and passing the special "Mommy to be" spaces reserved for new and expectant mothers is a painful reminder of what we will never have.

As if having my son in an urn on special shelf is not hard enough, we also get numerous reminders throughout the month that our son is not with us.

Baby coupons. No Baby.
Baby magazines. No Baby.
One mommy, one daddy, one big brother.  No Baby.
Friends who didn't know. Awkward conversation. No Baby.
Stuffed monkey bought for baby. No Baby.
Feelings of guilt. No Baby.
Dreams of holding my son.  Wake up.  No Baby.
Medical bills from his delivery.  No Baby.
Empty arms.  No Baby.

 After my son died, I felt a pain much greater than I have ever experienced.  Within the storm of my grief, I found God to be more present than I would have ever imagined.   God clearly carried me during my darkest hours of grief.  When we hear the verse, "Jesus Wept" it is hard to imagine what it really means to weep.  Now, I know.

To weep is far greater than a simple cry that I knew as normal prior to losing our son.  For the first time in my life I also experienced it.  I wept.  It is a cry of sorrow, pain, anxiety, depression, and longing for answers.  To weep, you feel the cry deep within.  You not only shed tears of grief, but your entire body responds to the grief in the same manner.  I know that while I was weeping for the four straight months that followed my son's death, God was there.  He was whispering and continually showing His presence to let me know that we were being taken care of.  He made sure to offer us comfort and allowed us to find strength within His promise that one day, we will be reunited with our son.

I am learning little by little to be more patient.  I am learning to be more grateful.  I am learning to be a better mother to the son that I do have here on earth.  The things that once seemed so important, have little to no significance in the grand scheme of things.  I am learning to let go of the reins and to give God control.

As I do all of this I am reminded that had we not lost our son, changes in our lives would not have taken place.  It is time to give thanks to God, our creator.  Thank you God for the short, but sweet and precious time that you gave us with our son Dallas.  I know that he is in heaven and is completely perfect now.  Someday we will get to see him again.  Until then, I can rest easier knowing that he is in your kingdom now and gets to continually experience your love while he waits there to meet his family.  Thank you God for helping me keep my head above the water.  Thank you God for my friends and family that truly did their best to help me during my extended time of grief.