And then she had a baby. At 27 weeks... due to pre-eclampsia. And I saw the... mayhem via facebook. The NICU, the prayers, the struggles, the day that the little one went home from the hospital.
So when my post... that fateful early march day to the facebook world included that I was in the in the hospital with pre-eclampsia, she was all over it. She called, she emailed, she facebooked... trying to get in touch with me. She did a darn good job... I just had constant visitors so I declined the call from an unknown number. Now I know better.
She blogged about how she needed everyone she knew to pray for me. She emailed me every day.
And when I sent that sad news email to the world... she kept praying. She kept in touch. She told me how much she admired my strength and assured me I was doing well... that she couldn't imagine my pain.
So... skip ahead a few weeks and she announces... they are expecting their second child!!! Very exciting!!!
And then, one month ago today, she nearly died due to severe complications... and her son, was born still.
I've been thinking of her all today. Remembering what that first month marker was like. I looked back and noticed I didn't post much. I held back, kept it... short.
It was a hard one. It was the first afterall. And it was just near the point where I came out of the fog of "what just happened?"... that shock phase of grief. And in shaking off shock, the anger and fear and bitterness came rushing in. I remember throwing a tantrum about nothing. No seriously.... NOTHING. It started because I wanted a bagel sandwich, but could not properly direct Pete on where to go in order to get a bagel sandwich. And suddenly, I'm sobbing uncontrollably in the car.
He started to get frustrated with me. But... in a moment of the most pure form of grace, he pulled the car over and he just looked at me quietly for a moment. And then, as soon as he could fit it in between my tears, he asked ever so gently, "Is this really about the bagel sandwich?" And I pretty much yelled, "NO!" sob sob sob... "This is because its the sixth of the month, and what could possibly go right today????"
He took me home, fixed me breakfast... and I went back to bed. At some point, I felt nice enough to post the blog you can look up from April 6th. I assure you. It says nothing. It was a pleasant mask to cover the most unpleasant of feelings.
I post this because.... well because I feel compelled to truly share that month marker. My friend's own trauma is what brings on the desire. I cannot be sure what her own experiences are... but this is what I know. It doesn't get better by the end of that first month. I will not even speak very highly of month two. In fact, (and I hate to bring this up, knowing my friend is probably reading).... month two... is probably the worst. Because there is no more shock. You can sorta get by on your own physically. And people... its perfectly human and acceptable... people who aren't experiencing what you have: they start to move on. And in the moment that happens, you want to scream at the world, "HEY!!! WAIT!!! My baby just died!!!" But you don't. Mostly out of fear that the world will scream back, "No she didn't... that was a whole month ago. Move on..."
YEESH! I started this blog to bring truth to that month marker. And here I am blabbing on about how the month marker isn't even the worst. (So let me back track to remind you that the markers are never as bad as the day it all actually happened)
But here is where it goes... in not that long...
In some ways, not a lot has changed. I still have moments where the anger and bitterness rushes in. There are still times where sadness and tears threaten to suffocate me. I still have the occasional, "Tantrum"
BUT!!!! These moments are farther between. For the most part, I can save these moments for quiet time rather than breaking down unexpectedly in public. I can see people with babies. I can walk past baby stuff in the store. The callous is building up. Things still get to me but not as often or as sharply as before.
Hang in there friend. Don't focus on the fact that people seem to be getting back to life as before... remember that they still love you immensely, they think about you often and cannot imagine your pain... but continue praying for you all the same.
It does get better. Its gets better in spurts and then there is a bad moment or day... but every day you get up is a day you are moving forward whether it feels like it or not.
This is not an experience where you can eventually go back to the way things were. But you can... embrace where you are in grief and let it mold you. You are strong... and faithful... and life will go on. And you will function at continually higher ability all the while knowing of the hole in your heart from your loved little boy.
And I'm here when you are ready. But until then... I will just continue blogging about the few things I know to be true.
No comments:
Post a Comment