Sundays are normally quiet days for us.
Church, lunch, nap, grocery store.
That about sums up our Sundays.
But today we're going to pick up our sweet boy, meeting my parents halfway in Greenville. They were nice enough to take him for an entire weekend, even though they might say that we were the ones nice enough to let them have him, because that's how awesome Thomas is :-)
Then we'll follow that meeting up with a little visit with Ben in Montgomery.
Should be a good day.
I've been captivated lately with a little boy named Colten.
His momma and I have corresponded for a while now, since all that went on with Kathryn, as she was hospitalized for Colten's hydrops and related problems.
And sweet Colten was born yesterday. So far he is doing well, and the fluid from his lungs seems to not be reaccumulating. Please join me in prayer for this sweet miracle that he is one of the miracle babies that beats the 90% mortality statistic for hydrops babies. I know he can do it.
It's made me think alot about Kathryn. Not in a sad way, but in a mystical, joyful approach. The more we grown in this journey through grief, the more I wonder how people get through it without the faith and understanding of grace.
We were never promised a Joel Osteen privileged walk of faith.
We were promised grace.
We were promised mercy.
We were promised sanctuary.
All amid the pain, all among the joy.
We had a good weekend. A good mixture of relaxation and friends. Some we see pretty often, others we hadn't seen in quite some time. Either way, it was nice. One friend we saw last night who we hadn't seen in quite some time asked how we were doing, and said, "I haven't seen you since you were pregnant with your child."
I asked, "which one?"
It confused him, as he meant with Thomas.
I let it go, and told him Thomas was great, showed him pictures, and shared stories. He's probably still really confused as to what I meant by my earlier statement, but I let it go. I decided it wasn't the time and place to get into the story.
But I'm getting there: to the place of being ready to talk about it without tears overflowing, because she was beautiful, because she fought so hard, and because she was ours.
Grief is funny because it sneaks up on you. One day you're fine, the next day the fears and the anxieties can literally paralyze you.
I think it's meant to be that way, to keep us on our toes.
But it's Sunday, and today, I'm moving forward.
Must go now, it's time to go pick up my boy....
1 comment:
I have a close friend who lost a baby at 11 months. She also gets through it by faith and grace. As you wrote, it is always a tricky situation when someone hasn't seen her in a long time, and she has to break the news to them. Sometimes I've seen her tell it with lots of tears. Sometimes she's not in the mood to grieve, but the listener is leveled by the news and she has to comfort them. Sometimes I've seen her be able to say it, allow the listener to acknowledge it, and then together they take a deep breath and move on.
Another tricky situation is when she is asked by someone new how many children she has. I admire her so much because she always just tells her truth. "I have four children, a son, and triplets, two girls and a boy. But one of our daughters died suddenly at eleven months so we are parenting our first-born son and our two surviving triplets."
Seeing her, and you, love God, love life, and move forward through such a loss gives me a well of strength to draw on. Hang in there. Prayers continue.
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