Journal entry April 28, 2007

Tonight we had to the Mathias to the ER for a couple of stitches. He bumped his head playing around with his big off we went.

After the Doctor closed him up, the nurse came in to wash his head as best as could be. He had dried blood everywhere, including on my fav white tee, but I don't care. I held him close on the way home and kissed him as gently as I could. I couldn't help but to remember the smell of Charlotte's undershirt the hospital had sent home with us. Mathias' hair smelled just like it. Uck. Hospital smell.

So the past few days have been really hard. I wonder if Hospice Staff or Grief Counselors at hospitals warn parents of the high separation rate of couples who experience the loss of a child. It's so hard because Brian and I are on such opposite ends of the spectrum. I seem to be ebbing and flowing with my grief and he is well, not doing much that I can tell. I would like to think that he is hurting a lot on the inside too, but it doesn't show very much. He told me tonight that he people at his work could give a rip about Charlotte dying and that breaks my heart. He said he only had 2 weeks to mourn her. And it seems like he's done with it. But unfortunately, I'm not. He told me yesterday that I have so much to be thankful for. I know that! But don't tell me that because I have 3 other kids that I should be ok that only one isn't here.

I was pondering on the story of Job the other night. I need to re-read it for all of the particulars, but I was wondering how long he was really going thru his trials. Months, days, years? The answer seems obvious, that it took years for him to be restored, so how long will it be for me then? I know this is brand new for me, but it's very hard. Some days I'm fine, others I'm not.

I was thinking of how the Bible says that God will only give you what you could handle. He will never "overload" you. During my pregnancy with Charlotte, I felt so anxious about what ever was going to happen that I thought each day I had reached the end of my rope. I couldn't take another minute of this agony. But then, God gave me another day. And then another. And then another. Right up until December 7th. That was the day when He said "no more". But I wonder... does He know that I might have been able to hold on for a little longer? Just to have another night with her inside me? Dead or alive. Just to be able to hold her again when she came out. To really look her over, instead of being afraid to look at her because of the condition of her skin. To soak her in...

It's strange to me to be having these thoughts and feelings. I spoke with a friend of mine yesterday and she noted that I may not have dealt with the physical loss of Charlotte yet. I think so too. I'm completely ok in the spiritual area of this loss, but physically, I'm a mess. I didn't know one could come before another in dealing with grief. It's hard to explain. I go thru my day and catch myself thinking about how this is probably the time that I would be nursing her back to sleep or my arms sure would be strong from carrying a chubby baby in a carrier from place to place. Instead, my arms are empty of Charlotte.

When I came home form the hospital, I was aware that my milk would come in and that I would be sore. What I didn't know was the literal feeling of longing and hurting to hold a baby. And not just any baby, but my baby. My arms felt like I was carrying 5 pound weights in my fingertips. Just a long, achy, heavy feeling. Nothing soothed them. The only thing that came close was holding Mathias. I think there is some kind of chemical reaction between mothers and their children and the sense of smell, maybe? It was interesting because the days following Charlotte's birth, I was around little babies. It didn't bother me to hold them, per se, but it didn't help me. The only thing that even remotely made my arms stop hurting was to hold (and sniff) Mathias. My flesh, my bones, my blood. And I seriously mean that they hurt in wanting to hold a baby... like they were bruised on the inside.

I also thought it was so unfair to have these huge breasts so full of milk and no baby to suckle it out. I craved that. But what I had to do was even worse. In the middle of December, when it was really cold outside, so much so that I had to wear 2 tee shirts and a sweat shirt and pants, I had to put huge bags of ice on my chest to lower the fever in them. It sucked that I couldn't even accept hugs from people at her memorial because I was so sore. I was careful to wrap myself tightly during the day and to take only lukewarm showers with indirect spraying on my chest. But the first time I saw milk leak out I cried thinking "what a waste". I had problems with Mathias getting enough and here I am so full with no baby. I had prayed all through my pregnancy to have abundant milk for the baby. Well, my prayers were answered.

Looking back, even while I was transferring over letters and journal entries onto this blog, I was reminded of the goodness and sweetness of God. I have not gotten mad at him for taking "my" baby. But I have wondered a lot of other things.

I skipped over many weeks of journaling, which now I wish I hadn't. Not that anything stands out in my memory to write about, but that I just didn't write period. And now when I do, my thoughts are everywhere on the page.

Another friend of mine said how lucky I was that I hadn't had a crisis in "faith". Reading back on this blog, I can see where I did have a crisis though. I truly wondered if God was doing all that I thought He said He was. I doubted more of my "interpretation" of things rather than Him, personally. And some people just plainly didn't and still don't get it. Which makes it hard to explain how I feel. They think that I was in some state of denial over what truly happened to Charlotte. I like I'm not aware that she had problems and that she's dead. Like I couldn't handle it. Some people think that I was not "ready" to let go when her heart stopped beating because of my feelings. But it wasn't EVER that. I have never before in my life been so clear thinking and understanding of things except during those few months carrying her.

I was ready. I had been ready for quite a while for this to be over. Not for her to be gone, but just to have the situation over. What I was afraid of was the hurt afterward, which is what I'm trying to deal with now. And even if I was grasping for straws, so what? I challenge anyone to go thru this and not hold onto what ever they could. But this is the difference, I believe that God had a plan for Charlotte and that whatever it is, it was for His glory. I may not understand it now. I may not like it. But that's why He is God, and I'm not.

No comments:

Post a Comment