Time out

Warning: this is going to be a really long post, but I hope that it is worth reading…
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I feel the need to take a “time out” and to write some comments about the direction my blog has taken lately. I am not unaware that often my entries are pretty dark and heavy. This type of writing has been very therapeutic and freeing for me lately. I have particularly given myself freedom to lament and grieve this month, as my original due date is coming up on the 25th, and these days are extra hard. However, it is not my intention to stay here forever. I do not want my blog to be permanently defined by this stage of my life. Only temporarily.

Currently, I have found great relief and comfort using my blog for public lamenting. In other cultures, it is acceptable to grieve and lament in public. Not so in the US. While I want my friends, family & acquaintances to know what I’m thinking, feeling & learning, it is not always socially appropriate to launch into it when I see them. So, this has become my way to share. Again, I don’t always expect to be here. But I’m here now.

There is something else I want to comment on that might shed some light on the tone of my recent posts. Those who know me already know that I naturally have pessimistic tendencies. I think I have gotten better over the years, but a tragedy such as what has happened to me has made it pretty easy to give in to doubt, despair, cynicism, and even bitterness at times. Hope and faith are not easy to come by. As I have studied grief and suffering and the ways Christians (and our culture in general) react to those encountering situations like mine (or much worse), I have become very disturbed at what I find. I am not necessarily saying optimism is bad, but… I think it can be harmful, as it often invalidates suffering. I don’t want to gloss over suffering and pain with the excuse that “the Lord is good and faithful” so everything will ultimately be ok. I think that’s a cop-out and can be harmful to those who are really hurting. Consequently, I tend to react pretty strongly against the view that says I, and others, should just “have more faith” or “count your blessings” or even the old “look on the bright side”. Not that anyone has necessarily said that to me, but the general feeling I get from society is that I should hide my grief – or worse, ignore it and just try to move on. I have a book I’m rereading, called “Empty Cradle, Broken Heart: Surviving the Death of Your Baby.” The author is very strong in saying that people NEED to grieve, they NEED to cry, they NEED to be sad for a time. And there is no time limit to grieving – it takes as long as it needs to. To distract yourself and keep busy, or to just try to tell yourself it wasn’t that bad and to try to move on (that is, going around the grief instead of through it), is actually worse than letting yourself feel the pain. You cannot circumvent grief – it will not go away by ignoring it. I feel very strongly about this. I know that I am made differently than other people, but I just cannot comprehend how someone can go through a death of a loved one and not take the appropriate time to grieve and mourn. How someone can just stuff the feelings and move on is absurd to me. Yet that is what society teaches.

Sorry for being long winded. I guess what I want to say, is that sometimes when I write, I probably do tend to have an “axe to grind” – although I honestly don’t want to come across that way. Since I have problems with the ways many people view suffering, I sometimes let my posts lean a little too far in the opposite direction, if only to make a point. (Again, not to anyone in particular, but just to people in general). I have a message I feel like I want to get out there. This is my way of doing so.

Ok, one more thing. What I write in my posts comes completely from my heart, but it is not a full picture of who I am and what all my days are like. I tend to write entries when I am down. Sometimes some of my best writing comes from the dark places. However, I have decided that perhaps I should reveal the other side of the story.

My days are not all black.

*I am very, very happily married (6 year anniversary on Saturday!) to my best friend in the whole world. I would rather be married to Adam and have no children than someone else and have lots of children.

*I am very thankful for my family, and for Adam’s family – and I love that we are so close to them. They have been wonderful and so supportive to us – an incredible blessing. I would not want to trade families for anything. I love them very much and am so happy that they love each other, too!

*Adam and I have amazing friends. Friends who have not judged us for being where we are. Friends who are endlessly patient and who are committed to loving us and sticking by us no matter how long it takes for us to get through this. I am constantly amazed by this – I think our friends are the exception rather than the rule in today’s world.

*I have a beautiful home that I love. And, because I am not a stay-at-home mom yet and have continued working, my extra income has allowed us to remodel much of the house and purchase new furniture. The extra income also allowed us to go on an awesome trip last month. And, it allowed us to purchase a beautiful piano last fall, which has been so therapeutic for me to play.

*I have a very loving cat who adopted me last fall. Toby is more like a dog than a cat in that he follows me and wants to be around me all the time. He’s very good for my self esteem :)

*While I don’t want to be working, I do have a good job. I’m thankful that my boss has allowed me to work part time – it has been a life saver. I’m also very thankful for the new job Adam will be starting on Monday. This is a great relief for both of us, for him to finally be in a position that seems to fit more of his calling in life.

*I’m extremely happy with my doctor, who has been with Adam and me in this “mess” since last fall. Though he has not been with us for the last few years of our struggling, he has been with us through the worst of it, and he has been incredibly sensitive and kind and very helpful to us as we try to recover and move on.

This “list” is not comprehensive by any means, but I thought it might help to balance out (if only a little bit) some of the more downer posts I’ve been writing lately.

However, despite all these blessings, I daily carry a heavy burden, wherever I go. It is always there, and I am unable to get away from it. It is not only the burden of grief from the loss of my son (and subsequent second miscarriage) but also the burden of my (still) unfulfilled desire to be a mother and raise a family at home (also complicated by a little clinical depression). I know the grief over my son will lessen with time, but grief over still being childless does not lessen with time – on the contrary, it grows stronger. I also hurt, deeply, over the walls that separate me from my friends who are pregnant and have children. I completely acknowledge that I let those walls be there, but I confess I am only doing what I do to survive. I hope that one day I will be able to give back and show them the same grace and compassion that they have shown me.

Suffering sucks, no way around it. But I think that perhaps sometime in the future I, and others, will be able to see some beauty out of the ashes. And I want to share that on my blog when it happens. That’s all.