Rays streaming down
Ya know how the sky looks when the clouds start to break and the sun's rays peek through the holes? I've always loved that sight. It's as if God is showing Himself. In a way, that's how I've been feeling the past few days. It all started last Friday. From the moment I woke, there was a fog that was lifted. And I figured I was just having a good morning, but then the afternoon hit and then I found myself laughing that night and then Saturday came and I enjoyed that day too. I enjoyed being at Riv and could even muster out a few songs, as before I couldn't even open my mouth without crying or getting so pissed that I wanted to scream. And though I couldn't stay to hear the message since Asher wasn't cooperating in RivKids, it still felt good to be at Riv. It felt like home again. And then Sunday came and I was OK and then Monday and now today...I still feel OK.
It's hard to describe other than painting a word picture of walking out in a dense fog and being lost in it for weeks, but then a moment comes where the fog starts to break a bit and you see and feel the sun's rays hit you, cover you, comfort you. There are still many moments throughout the day that the fog drifts back in, trying to close you in, but it's never as dense as it once was.
I feel OK. I am enjoying Asher more each day. I'm enjoying Steve and my marriage more. Not that I didn't love or respect him...I think it's more of just closing myself off for a bit. As if I was so hurt, so broken, that I couldn't stand to feel anything. I'm enjoying my friends again, my outings more. I feel that a pressure has been lifted, a fog has dissolved, the crushing feeling has let up.
I still long for Selah. I still long for Jorai. I still think about how far along I would be If I were still pregnant...I would have been 28 weeks today. That is the point we lost Jorai. That's the week we celebrated with Asher. I would have been in my 3rd trimester. I would only have 3 months left. I would have been bigger and still planning Selah's room...her wall art...I would have been buying her diapers and a few new clothing items. 3 months left. I would have been freaking out. I think about these things about once an hour. I long to have more time with her.
I fret about our future. I think about that all the time too. We have our genetic counseling appointment in just over 2 weeks. I'm nervous but I want answers as well.
I'm wondering when Steve will call letting me know that he's bringing Selah's remains home. I still haven't found her an urn yet. Not that I use urns for my babies...they're too deathly I think. I like to use 'happier', 'prettier' resting vessels. I wonder if I'll find one I like before he brings her home.
I still can't believe that I'll have 2 'urns' resting on my piano. I still can't believe I'll have 3 pictures of babies on my wall, but only one will be truly looked at by others. Most people can't stand to look at Jorai...and I'm sure it will be the same of Selah. Not that I don't understand. Death is hard, but the death of a child, a baby is excruciating to think of...and to have it your face is difficult. I'm just stating the obvious.
But in saying all of this...even though my heart still breaks and my mind wanders to sorrow often...even though I cry and am an emotional basket case most of the time, I still feel the warmth of the rays hitting my face. I still see the light and can continue to follow it out of the darkness. And that brings me hope.
A old high school friend sent me a message a few days ago and she closed with:
So, here's to a new day. Here's to more rays melting this all to thick fog. Here's to hope and love and forgiveness and light. May it stay and warm my soul and continue to chip away the anger and bitterness to reveal a better me...a brighter me.
It's hard to describe other than painting a word picture of walking out in a dense fog and being lost in it for weeks, but then a moment comes where the fog starts to break a bit and you see and feel the sun's rays hit you, cover you, comfort you. There are still many moments throughout the day that the fog drifts back in, trying to close you in, but it's never as dense as it once was.
I feel OK. I am enjoying Asher more each day. I'm enjoying Steve and my marriage more. Not that I didn't love or respect him...I think it's more of just closing myself off for a bit. As if I was so hurt, so broken, that I couldn't stand to feel anything. I'm enjoying my friends again, my outings more. I feel that a pressure has been lifted, a fog has dissolved, the crushing feeling has let up.
I still long for Selah. I still long for Jorai. I still think about how far along I would be If I were still pregnant...I would have been 28 weeks today. That is the point we lost Jorai. That's the week we celebrated with Asher. I would have been in my 3rd trimester. I would only have 3 months left. I would have been bigger and still planning Selah's room...her wall art...I would have been buying her diapers and a few new clothing items. 3 months left. I would have been freaking out. I think about these things about once an hour. I long to have more time with her.
I fret about our future. I think about that all the time too. We have our genetic counseling appointment in just over 2 weeks. I'm nervous but I want answers as well.
I'm wondering when Steve will call letting me know that he's bringing Selah's remains home. I still haven't found her an urn yet. Not that I use urns for my babies...they're too deathly I think. I like to use 'happier', 'prettier' resting vessels. I wonder if I'll find one I like before he brings her home.
I still can't believe that I'll have 2 'urns' resting on my piano. I still can't believe I'll have 3 pictures of babies on my wall, but only one will be truly looked at by others. Most people can't stand to look at Jorai...and I'm sure it will be the same of Selah. Not that I don't understand. Death is hard, but the death of a child, a baby is excruciating to think of...and to have it your face is difficult. I'm just stating the obvious.
But in saying all of this...even though my heart still breaks and my mind wanders to sorrow often...even though I cry and am an emotional basket case most of the time, I still feel the warmth of the rays hitting my face. I still see the light and can continue to follow it out of the darkness. And that brings me hope.
A old high school friend sent me a message a few days ago and she closed with:
'Why is it the brightest lights have to endure the most difficult tragedies sometimes? With patience and faith, perhaps you'll end up shining even brighter.'.I don't think I was ever a 'bright light', but to think that my tragedies could result in something positive has always helped me. It helped me deal and grow through the loss of Jorai and I see it now helping me as I walk through my grief of Selah. That's all I can ask for. For something meaningful and positive to come out of all this darkness. It's so nice to be reminded of that.
So, here's to a new day. Here's to more rays melting this all to thick fog. Here's to hope and love and forgiveness and light. May it stay and warm my soul and continue to chip away the anger and bitterness to reveal a better me...a brighter me.
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