Grief

I've learned a lot about grief over the last 3 1/2 months. It's horrible. It's raw. It has stages. It's a process. You might move beyond a stage, but that doesn't mean you won't revisit that same stage at a later time. You have to work through grief. It's sneaky. Just when you think you're on top of it, it rears it's ugly head unexpectedly. Grief can kick your butt. It can leave you feeling lost and alone; and it can make you second guess yourself, stripping you of any self-confidence you might have. (Am I normal? Is it ok to grieve like this? Should I still be grieving?) But, it can also cause something really beautiful, healing, and life-changing to happen. It can drive you to your knees and thrust you into a desperate pursuit of Christ and a deeper intimacy with Him. A crying out, pleading, all-I-want-is-You kind of pursuit. This doesn't happen all the time. Some days the grief wins the battle. But even on those days I believe that God is at work, deep down in the hidden places of my soul, winning the war.

I grieve.

I mourn.

I lament.

I remember when our doctor thought that Judah might have Trisomy 18, and we were facing the possibility of losing him. At that point, I didn't care what kinds of disabilities or special needs he might have, as long as I could bring him home. I just wanted Judah. The day we found out that his chromosomes were normal, I felt like I could fly. Like a literal huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. That day I wasn't grieving...it wasn't even a tiny blip on the radar. And I don't think I could have even guessed how hard the grief would hit me later. But here I am, with my beautiful, charming, darling boy, grieving. I don't grieve over Judah, or because of Judah. He's such a priceless gift! Such a treasure! I grieve over what I have lost, and what Judah has lost and will have to face. I lost the dream of a normal delivery and a healthy baby that could be with me. I lost the dream of a breastfeeding relationship. I'm still working on that one, but it will never be what it was with my other 3. Judah has lost a normal childhood, and I have lost the dream of that for him. I hate that he is facing a life with pain and disease and hospitalizations and surgeries and medications and doctors and other possible handicaps that we're not sure of yet. It's a fine line of grieving; mourning the circumstances surrounding this little person, not mourning the person.
The grief hits me at times that seem so wrong. My brother & sister-in-law are having a baby. A little girl. I rejoice with them, and I'm so excited! Another niece for me, another girl cousin for Lydia. I pray for her and love her already. They had their 20 week ultrasound yesterday. What a privilege for them to be able to see her, and also to be able to share the news that she's healthy! But in the midst of all of this happy news, I grieve all over again. I relive our 20 week ultrasound with Judah. The rest of my pregnancy. His birth and that time of separation. It hits me, and it's fresh all over again. It makes this time that should be nothing but joyous, bittersweet. I wonder, then, if parts of life will always be bittersweet. Will I always be contending with this grief; always experiencing sorrow in the midst of my joy? How frustrating is that? I don't want that. So, the question becomes, how do I find joy, real joy, that is alive and fresh and independent of my circumstances? Intellectually I know that my joy can't come from my circumstances or surroundings. I know that it comes from Christ. That's what I want. I want joy, not grief. Ecclesiastes says there is a time for dancing, too. Someday, I hope that God will help me to set aside my grief and experience true joy, dancing! Without even a hint of bittersweet. This side of Heaven.