I am constantly reminded that the Lord knows exactly what He is doing. That every person we meet, place we go, experience we have was written. That is hard to swallow on days like today. Days that are made blurry by memories of sadness. Days that I am reminded that at any moment my world could change, again. If it is written and I have chapters of sadness that means I have to accept that my loving, merciful, healing, Heavenly Father wrote those chapters. And He did and I know it and it makes it easier...no, no it doesn't.
Today I sat with a friend, a friend that I barely know, but whose heart I can see. You see she knows my sadness and hers is more recent than mine. I can actually see the weight that sits on her chest when she talks about babies and pregnancy. I can feel how heavy it is and it reminds me of mine and in moments of talking with her I find it hard to breathe again, still. And so I rub my belly and I remember that He chooses not me. And I realize that He put her in my living room for me, and for her, and I am grateful.
There is a process that we go through as mamas of babies that lived only inside the womb. A process that requires more anger and crying and begging and praying that anyone who has not been there can fathom. A process where we realize that this person, this small, perfect, precious, person lived only within us. That the loss, though great for those around us and close to us, in unexplainable to anyone because the baby that lived with us, never lived with anyone else. It's like having a friend that no one else knows but you and then having them die. Everyone is sad for you that loves you, but no one else experiences the loss. The process is long and it is filled with guilt, and frustration, and questions. It is "what ifs" to the point of insanity and "if onlys" that haunt you. And then one day you wake up and you can breathe again. You can drive your car alone and not cry. You can see a new baby and not envy. You can hear of a pregnancy and not cuss. The weight is lighter and the heavy coat of sadness becomes more like a sweater. Things look beautiful again and the life you missed grieving has gone on without and you realize it is time to catch up. I am in a sweater catching up, my friend, she is in a winter coat and it is 90 degrees outside. This makes me sad, it actually makes me cry. Not for me but for her because I know how she feels when she lays down at night. I do not miss that feeling.
So tonight I will pray not for myself, but for my friend. I will plead with Him to lighten her weight just a little tomorrow. I will remember how she feels and be blessed by the fact that I am able to actually tell her I understand and mean it. Tonight I will be grateful that I have met someone in a coat that needs a friend in a sweater.
John 14:27 Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.
Praying for a mama that wants another baby,