Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Repairing My Soul

There are a thousand things that have happened and continue to happen on a daily basis that breaks down my soul.  I still feel so very often feel a thousand mini daggers in my heart and throughout my day that make me sad inside and break me down.  They are from the littlest things to the biggest.  No one hurts more than the other, it is just a constant and dull sadness and pain that constantly exists inside of me.  I know 9 months has past by my heart doesn't know the time has past only that a piece of it is missing.

And then, there moments like this morning.  A morning starting off like so many others.  I didn't get to sleep well, didn't start asleep well, and got up way to early to a little boy full of life ready explore the world around him.  These mornings, which tend to be most mornings are difficult and a challenge.  How do I wake up full of the life and energy I need for my son, when my heart is so broken, my spirit weary and my body empty of energy.  I like most just 'do it' because we have to, and it is our life.  This is my life, a constant struggle and challenge to keep my head above water, wondering if I will ever be the same again.  Last night, I think I may have come to the conclusion, that 'no' I will not ever be the same.

Getting to the business of my morning emails is part of the routine. Usually it is a barrage of advertisements, groupon offers and junk.  Delete, delete, delete... and then this morning, an unusual email is there.  I had to take a double take.  A late night email from a dear friend, Laurie.  I have written about Laurie, before, she is a high school acquaintance turned dear friend, with an amazing talent for photography.  I thought it must have been an old email.  She kindly had done me the favor of emailing a picture of Gabriella, since I am away in Florida and didn't bring one.  I thought maybe that was the email I was noticing, but no, it wasn't.  She, this brilliant, humble and sweet girl, had taken a picture of my dear baby, one from the hospital, that until now I could not see fit to even look at much myself, let alone share with others, and touched it up.  A miracle was transformed in front of my eyes.  My daughter, as she would have looked in the best of situations and without any alteration to her appearance.  My heart stopped for a moment and the tears welled up.  It is my baby. It is my girl.  It is how I want to see her, remember her and love her.  My restful, peaceful, sleeping, little angel.  There she is the missing piece of my heart, there in black and white. 

My soul is still so broken and while this morning didn't magically 'fix' it all.  It is indeed a step in the right type of direction in repairing my soul.  I thank Mrs. Laurie Arends with all my heart, even the missing piece, for the gift she has given me, the gifts she has given me and with all the love in my heart for her talent and generosity. And while there is a missing piece of my heart there is also, know a new part of my heart that belongs to her. Thank you my friend, a million thank yous aren't enough, just know my heart aches with thanks and gratitude. 

 My sweet baby girl, Gabriella Eve, December 19, 2011. Shortly after delivery.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

The Ticker

I noticed my ticker today and it is sadly moving along and getting closer to the end of the line which represents one year. I am not ready for it have been a year. It has been 9 months and 3 days since we said good-bye. So sad. My heart hurts.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

The Shower

I have come to realize my shower is my safe haven. The place I go to unwind, relax and escape the cruel realities of life. I realized this today when after an especially hard day I took a second shower to as a precursor to relaxing on the couch with my husband.

As I was in the shower, the issue that was plaguing me most of the day and that had boiled over by dinner, was stuck in my head. Over and over again I tried to make sense of it all and how it could possible resolve itself. I began to pray. I prayer for the grace and the peace of the Lord to entire my heart and take away the anger and resentment I had at the situation. I found my clarity. I was to nothing more than pray about this situation and accept what will be. And so my attention turned from rerunning the situation in my head to praying on the situation. And so I did I prayed and prayed. At until it hit me, this is where I prayer for my daughter, before we found out she was gone. I should there in that very spot and prayed for the same grace and guidance. It dawned on me that the last time I prayed in that spot in that way, my daughter was still inside my body warm although lifeless. I don't know if I will ever look at the shower the same again, at least that shower.

I know while it may seem my prayers were not answered that day in December. Some many say but she was taking from you. And true she was, but my prayer was for grace and guidance and that I got. The grace I was given that night has carried me over many months. I am grateful. Now I pray the same loving spirit of God comes to me again to help in this new and very different situation. I trust it will, even if I don't like the outcome again. I will still pray and hope for the best as that is my nature.

Thursday, September 8, 2011


This poem was read at my bereavement group this month.  It touched me and I wanted to share it.
I don't know 'where' I am at in my grief, but I can identify with each stage in some way and I can say I have seen myself moving through and between the stages.  I don't know that I know much about anything anymore, but, I do want to believe I am strong, even though I don't feel it.


In the early days of my grief,
a tear would well up in my eyes,
a lump would form in my throat,
but you would not know-
I would hide it,
And I am strong.

In the middle days of my grief,
I would look ahead and see that wall
that I had attempted to go around
as an ever-present reminder of a wall yet unscaled.
Yet I did not attempt to scale it
for the strong will survive-
And I am strong.

In the later days of my grief,
 I learned to climb over that wall- step by step-
remembering, crying, grieving.
And the tears flowed steadily as
 I painstakingly went over.
The way was long, but I did make it,
For I am strong.

Near the resolution of my grief,
a tear will well up in my eyes,
a lump will form in my throat,
but I will let that tear fall- and you will see it.
Through it you will see that I still hurt and I care,
For I am strong.

Terry Jago