Mourning sneaks up when you don't think it will. It's honestly harder for me to look at ultra sound pictures than to look at newborn pictures. It's harder to see baby clothes at stores than to see actual babies. (You still can't get me to stay away from babies, are you kidding? It's like you don't even know me at all.)
In the last week the emotion has sneaked up on me harder than the weeks right after finding out that our baby couldn't grow. It just smacks me against the walls of my small pitiful heart. I cry and squeak and wish that life was still there so badly.
I didn't get to hear a heart beat. I didn't get to watch or feel my stomach expand. I didn't get to see any movement on that screen. I just saw a black spot. But I signed up for all the email updates I could find, to learn what approximate fruit size my baby was at that week. I thought I had unsubscribed to them all, but then yesterday I got the "Congratulations, you are at week 12! Your baby is the size of a plum!" update email. And it hurt.
In my diary, I keep a running prayer of prayers for my life and ministry.
Here's the last few-
"Let your spontaneous love flow out of me to all others."
"Show me how to love as you have loved me."
"Teach me how to be a Mother."
"Lead me through balancing family and CP work."
"Heal my broken heart Lord, as I give this dream back to you."
I know that tears are one of the methods the Holy Spirit uses to cleanse our hearts. I think we need to share our hurts and not feel ashamed of the pain.
My good friend Naomi is going through a really difficult time, and she is sharing her journey through a blog. It's very powerful and a beautiful depiction of having faith. I encourage anyone to sees this to check it out, and lift up her family in prayer.
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