Jealousy

My husband was a youth pastor for many years and we had a friend who we did youth ministry with whose brand new baby has heart problems and has to have open heart surgery. She is a week old and fighting for her life and I find myself feeling jealous. I am jealous that their baby girl gets to fight for her life while mine never got that chance. If only she had been born alive, we would have had those precious moments together and the chance to pray and hope for her recovery. We were given no warning, so there was nothing to pray for except the impossible - that God would somehow miraculously bring her back to life. I sometimes feel like the fact she was "stillborn" invalidates my grief, or at least people use it to invalidate me. She was ready to be here and we were ready to have her. Alive or not, I gave birth, held her, kissed her and loved her. I'll never forget the friend who responded, "Oh, she never took a breath? I didn't know that." As if somehow that made it less hard, less painful or less real that she was here. I find myself needing to prove that she was alive, a person. There is really no reason for this post except that my feelings for our friend's baby took me by surprise. I do care and want his baby to live. But his family is probably going to have this "deep experience" and think that they have been through the worst, yet I know they have not. I really do hope this is the worst that they will ever experience, but part of me is so jealous that they get to have it. I feel cheated.

I didn't have anywhere to take these feelings, so I've brought them here. I love that MISS exists, that you get it and that I have a place to go, even years later, when my grief is triggered and I feel as raw as I did in the beginning. Thank you for listening ...

Mother's Day

Wishing a gentle Mother's Day to all of the grieving moms without their children today. Remembering all of our angels today and always ...

MOTHER’S DAY
Another Mother’s Day!
But a different one this year.
For you see, I am a mother,
but my child isn’t here.
I am a mother who is hurting
for this child who was so dear,
as I face this and other occasions,
each and every year.
I am a mother who feels an emptiness
over and over again,
because I miss THIS child
and all that could have been.
I am a mother who cared
as I watched my child grow,
and truly loved him (her) more
than anyone will ever know.
I am a mother who has memories
and many tears to cry
over regrets I’ll have to live with
until the day I die.
I am a mother who is thankful
for the miracle of birth,
and all my child has taught me
about life and my own self-worth.
I just can’t stop being a mother
just because my child isn’t here,
because the love we had for each other
will continue throughout the years.
And so on this special “Mother’s” Day,
I will feel pride, love and joy
which are the parts that make me: who I am,
and what I’ll always be -
**A MOTHER**
just remember that - please?

By Judy A .
(Borrowed from HOPE LINE, a newsletter published by HOPE FOR BEREAVED, Syracuse, NY)

FOJ's

I found these on a website called The Brick Testament (www.thebricktestament.com) and thought they were great! My friend, Don, calls those who use religious rhetoric to "comfort" others "FOJ's" (Friends of Job). I like it ...

Does It Ever Go Away?

Ladies, those of you who have gone on to have a sub-baby (or adopted), do you still have that longing when you go to the playground, children's museum, soccer games, etc. where there are "normal" families and wish you had what they have? Does it ever go away? Will having Hope (the baby girl we are adopting from Russia) really make me feel better or at least help make it hurt less? I am longing to hold my sub baby in my arms and whenever I go anywhere that includes families of small children, my heart is all over the place. One minute, it's joy knowing that Hope will be here soon! The next it's envy and pain, wishing Abby were here so I could be like "them" and not live with these thoughts, wanting to be "normal" and wanting to hold my little girl. Will I ever feel normal again? It's not the same as the gut wrenching pain of loss that we experienced in the early days, months and weeks of grief. I just hate how I feel when I'm around families who have never had to struggle to have what they take for granted. And we're working so hard and have had to wait so long for it happen! I think Jeannie's post about what to do when you don't get your rainbow has stirred me up. That and all of the delays and threats by the Russian government to suspend international adoptions. I'm just wondering if I will always look at these other families and not have all these thoughts about what our life "should" be? Or if when Hope gets home, things will change?

MISSing Abby and waiting for Hope!

Why Does This Bother Me So Much?

With the whole Russian adoption in the balance this week, I have been inundated with platitudes from well meaning people. The one that bugs me the most is, "God is in control." I don't know why it bothers me so much, but it just drives me absolutely nuts when I hear it! I feel like it's an excuse for people not to care. Caring for people takes time. Most people really don't want to take time to care, so them come up with a platitude to make themselves better. They think they are encouraging the other person, but really it is insulting. At least it is to me. I have been a Christian for years (my husband is a pastor) and I know God is in control. I don't need people telling me that. What I need is people to say, "I'm sorry this is so hard. I am here for you. I care about this. I'm praying that it will all work out. Is there something I can do to help?" Or just ask how I am feeling and let me talk about it. When someone says "God's in control" in response to my concerns, I feel like screaming! That is what I was told when I thought I was miscarrying in 2008. And I then I did. I needed comfort and instead I got shut down. When people say that, it feels like they don't really want to listen or know how I am feeling. They just want to get out of the conversation as quickly as they can. Does or has anyone else felt this way? Maybe it's because I'm going through this adoption for my sub-baby. I'm sure anyone who has gone through a sub-pregnancy has felt this way. I don't want people telling me it is all going to be okay. They don't know that it is going to be okay. Only God knows that. It just feels like an easy way for people not to really have to care.

I really don't understand why I am so frustrated about this, but I needed to vent, so thanks for listening!

Lump In My Throat

I just visited the facebook page of an old childhood friend. He and his sister grew up in my neighborhood, just a few doors down from us. We played in the back yard and at each other's houses as children and they were regular neighborhood friends. We went to the same grade school, middle school and high school. He married his high school sweetheart and followed his dreams to become an engineer. As I look through his photos all of his dreams have come true. Great job, beautiful wife, 3 healthy beautiful kids. And then there it was. The lump in my throat. Tears hiding just under the surface being held back only my unwillingness to feel the pain. Jealousy. I am jealous. I will be 40 this year and I have spent the last 13 years trying to have a family! I know it is fleeting, but for the moment, this is how I feel. I wanted a big family, lots of kids. My husband is a GREAT father to our one and only living son. We make a very humble income (he is in ministry) and barely get by financially so that I can stay home with our son. I feel like we work so hard for what we have and while we have so little, what we have is precious. I should be content with that and most days I am. For some reason it hit me hard today when I looked at his photos and where he is in life at almost 40. We are still waiting for our rainbow and I just know that when she is finally here, things will be different. But right now, today, I feel sad that they are not. I would have three children here, just like him, but I don't. And I am jealous.

Processing the Pain, Part II

We spent the next 4-5 weeks isolating ourselves from the hurtful comments that seemed to inundate us after my miscarriage. We heard everything from "Abby must have wanted a brother or sister in Heaven" to "well, at least now you know you can get pregnant again" (that zinger came from my husband's sister). We were broken and hurting and no one seemed to know what to do or say. The pain was crushing and the only thing we knew to do was to get far away from the source, so we retreated until we were less sensitive. That is when the second offense took place.

I had made a decision a year earlier to end a friendship that was causing me pain instead of helping me heal. It was a decision I did not make lightly. I lamented over the friendship and sought professional counsel on what to do about constant insensitive comments that were coming my way. She (my counselor) encouraged me to get away from the friend and focus on my husband, son and getting through my grief and stay close to friends who were willing and able to share my load. So I did.

But this friend also just happened to be a close friend of my husband's family and it was going to be hard to avoid seeing her. So I asked his family to support my decision to withdraw from this relationship and they said they would. My sister-in-law even went so far to say that I was family and that family came first and that she fully supported me. That Christmas, the family honored my wishes and the friend (and her family) were not invited to our family gathering as they had been in the past. I felt loved, validated and affirmed by my husband's rallying around me. Until my miscarriage.

Four weeks passed after my miscarriage and the barrage of hurtful comments and I felt that I was ready to see people, including my husband's family, who I felt had wounded me the most. Wounds from those closest to us tend to hurt more than those from others. At any rate, I thought I was ready and we agreed to go to the annual gathering at my mother-in-law's house to celebrate the July/August birthdays, of which there were many. I was anxious, but wanted to do my part to heal the damage of which really none of them were aware. We had kept our feelings to ourselves about people's comments. We knew they meant well, but just didn't know what to say to us and we were trying not to allow it to destroy our relationships.

Just 15 minutes after we arrived, the friend who I had decided to stop seeing pulled up the long driveway to my mother-in-law's house with her family in tow. I could not believe it! I was so angry and hurt. I felt so betrayed by them. They promised me, stood by me, affirmed me and betrayed me. I looked at my sister-in-law and said, "How could you do this?" and ran into the house where my mother-in-law stood preparing food. I asked if she knew this person was coming and she said my sister-in-law invited her. I yelled that I felt set up and betrayed and could not believe they would do this to me to which she yelled back, "this is a house of peace and love, we will not have this." I felt trapped and did not want to be forced to see this person, so I ran out the back door, through the woods to the street below and called my husband on his cell phone to pick me up immediately, crying uncontrollably, overwhelmed by the pain of this betrayal.

This is all I can write tonight. I will continue processing as I can ...