Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Better for it.



Better for it. Are you? Do you feel like you are better for living your life how you have, do you feel better for journeying through trials and growing experiences? Sometimes I struggle with that question. Do I feel like I am better for it, because I have lost a child, or been abandoned by parents or molested or abused? I actually don't really know how to answer that question yet. But this is what I do know - - - if I let it be so, I COULD be. I could turn bad into good, sorrow into joy, darkness into light. I can allow myself to continue to be a better mother for it, a better friend, wife, and neighbor. Growing for me is a slow, more times than not, a PAINFUL process. I am stubborn and closed off. Growing for me has taken YEARS, I suspect it will take many many more. It's my goal, though - - my goal to continue to move forward, even at a slow pace, and be better for my life experiences. Better for knowing and sharing with YOU. Better for learning how to by my best self.

I am better for knowing Avery. I am better for having been given the chance to become a mother again, better for being blessed with the opportunity to raise and nurture a living baby, who is mine on this earth for at least a little while. He is an absolute joy. His smile and love in his eyes, for each member of my family, is heart warming in a way that I cannot explain. It's as if he knows he was sent to us to create a healing in our home that would not be possible with out him. He is our shining star, his place is unique and sacred in our home.

I am better for knowing each of my children. Hannah is selfless. She helps, she is responsible, she is smart and kind. Ian is loving and tender. He is sensitive and soft. Olivia is wild and strong. Determined and loyal. Isaac is pure and perfect. He is a teacher and a guardian. Avery is joyful and sweet. Affectionate and soothing. I would do well to become half the person that my sweet children already are. Nothing is more important to me then them.

We survived "D-Day", diagnosis day. January 15th marked THREE YEARS since we would find out Isaac would die. My heart was sad on Sunday reflecting on all that we have been through, all that we suffered during that time. My mind drifted back to the day that we found out. I have never been so shocked in my entire life. Andrew wasn't able to take work off, I went to my ultrasound appointment alone. When the doctor began with "I am so sorry, I don't know how to tell you this.....", I completely panicked. A million things had to have flown through my head at the same time. I remember thinking that whatever problem this baby had, we could handle it. We would simply find a way to pay for what he or she needed, and our family would adapt. I guess it never even entered my mind that the baby would be so unwell, he or she would die. After I received the news, I mentally checked out. The doctor wanted to me look at the screen to see Isaac's beautiful feet and hands, and I wouldn't turn my head. It took every ounce of strength I head to not begin sobbing uncontrollably on the table. I got off the of the table, straitened my clothes, and stumbled out to the car. Once I was in the car - where no one could see, right? - I began sobbing. I do not remember the last time I ever cried like that. I laid my head on the steering wheel and wailed for what seemed like forever. When I could breath again, I lifted my head, dried my eyes on my shirt, and drove to my in law's home. I tried the best to explain to them what had happened, but they were just as dumb founded as me. I never, in 10 or 11 years, have clutched my father in law to me in a hug, but I walked over to him. He grabbed me, and the sobbing just started all over again. I don't know how me managed over the next few days. I had to break the news to Andrew, the kids, the extended family. We had doctor appointments and more doctor appointments. We had huge decisions to make. I wasn't sleeping. The kids were not sleeping. In fact, we were all sleeping in the living room together. That is a time in my life I wish to never ever visit again. I am forever changed by that experience, and by that loss. I have never grieved so hard and felt so lost. I was so utterly heart broken.

And now here we are. 3 years later. 3 miscarriages and a BABY later. We are not the same, I know I will never be, but I am trying to find ways to be better for it. Just how, that remains the question.

We miss Isaac so much. We speak of him often and I look at his pictures around the house every day. I try not to visit my grief over him much, because I simply cannot survive in that place. Time moves on, somehow we must allow it to take us along.

I am better for writing. I have always loved to write. My goal is to write more this year. It does not matter who reads and who doesn't. My soul feels purged and better for it. And that, my dear friends, makes writing time well spent.

Until next time, all my love,
Misty

3 comments:

Susan said...

Thanks for posting. I've been checking every few days and it's nice to get an update. Enjoy that baby.

Holly said...

I like to think I am better because of everything I have been through. I do believe I am better because of all my children. Each of them have shaped me both in similar and in different ways.

Tesha said...

I so agree writing helps me so much.
I have written many post on Jonathan's life and death making me a better person. You are a gifted writer I enjoyed reading. I don't think you are listed on any of the baby loss blog rolls I went to-- so many blogs are abandoned,(out of date) It was so discouraging I wanted to say did you ever get better did you go on??? Thanks for sharing.