Venting

This is going to be more like a diary entry, so there is your fair warning.

I have been struggling a lot lately. With the fact that this is suppose to be Micah's first Christmas and we should be having cute little baby toys around the house, not just preschool toys. Then I get some stuff from someone who is suppose to love and support me, which is the furthest thing from that persons mind. She gives me an Infant Lullaby CD and then an article that features "An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination" by Elizabeth McCracken. Which I started to read about 2 weeks ago but have found it very hard and not very comforting. I think this is mostly because it is more worldly and I have been doing much better with Christain books. They are more up lifting and tell of hope. The despair, which is what I have felt in this book, I don't need someone to tell me about their despair, I do just fine with it. Well, I was also told, indirectly when someone said that the CD was insensitive, that I need to get over it and get on with it. This has been eating away at me for a while now and along with the article, which I think is more to help others understand, was just a way to be spiteful and I felt like it was an insult to Micah's memory. How dare that person. I can not believe that would come out of someone who claims to love me and my family. In fact, as I read the article it struck me that the person who gave it to me never completed the article, for if they did they would never have said something like that. The end quote is "Every day as I love this baby in my lap, I think of my other baby. Poor older brother, poor missing one. I see the infant before me, the lips fattened and glossy with nursing, the nose whose future...I try to predict daily. The love for the first magnifies the love for the second, and vice versa." I hope that this person never has to go through the loss of a child. And if so, I hope I can be there to comfort, support and grieve with them, not turn my back on them. I know that I must show Christ in all situations, and I really struggle to be Christ like when dealing with this person, for they have hurt me so many times and driven a wedge in our family. This is just another one of those things that makes it that much harder to love and accept unconditionally. I don't know how Jesus did it. But I could use help.

Also, as the Christmas Cards and Letters start to come pouring in, and as I mailed out ours, I feel like there may be some who will cry as they read our opening line. But I am NOT going to apologize, for it is our life. Our son died! Our baby boy is not with us and we are a two child family but the world only sees one. I am thankful for the life that God has given me and the child He has for me to raise, even though I fall way short. I still do not understand what God has in store for us. I am struggling with want to adopt a child, wanting to try and have another biological child. I do not know where God is leading us on this path. I don't even know if I want another child at all at times. But I know that it will become clear one day.

So as I sit and struggle with everything, I just want to leave you with this. Pray for those who have lost a child(ren). Our hearts NEVER fully heal, we are NEVER over the loss of that child. We will forever miss them on Earth, and they are NEVER out of our memory. Those of you who so wish, we would love for you to remember Micah this year by donating something to String of Pearls in his name. This way other families who face losing their baby will have the support that they need. Even if you are not family and want to do this. As I struggle with forgiving someone who has hurt me, yet again, I am faced with how many times I hurt God by turning on Him. And if he can forgive me, who does not deserve it, how much more should I forgive. So, I forgive you for hurting me, for being cruel and inconsiderate. For not understanding, which I am very thankful for. I also want to leave everyone with this wonderful poem that a wonderful friend posted on her blog

Please Be Gentle
By Jill B. Englar
Please be gentle with me for I am grieving.
The sea I swim in is a lonely one
and the shore seems miles away.
Waves of despair numb my soul
as I struggle through each day.
My heart is heavy with sorrow.
I want to shout and scream
and repeatedly ask 'why?'
At times, my grief overwhelms me and I weep bitterly,
so great is my loss.
Please don’t turn away or tell me to move on with my life.
I must embrace my pain before I can begin to heal.
Companion me through tears and sit with me in loving silence.
Honor where I am in my journey,
not where you think I should be.
Listen patiently to my story,
I may need to tell it over and over again.
It’s how I begin to grasp the enormity of my loss.
Nurture me through the weeks and months ahead.
Forgive me when I seem distant and inconsolable.
A small flame still burns within my heart,
and shared memories may trigger both laughter and tears.
I need your support and understanding.
There is no right or wrong way to grieve.
I must find my own path.
Please, will you walk beside me?