Painting The Baby's Room

We started painting the baby's room this weekend. I wasn't prepared for how hard it would be. The last time I painted it, I was 7 months pregnant with my daughter. That was 3 1/2 years ago. With each stroke, I relived the day that we were preparing it for her. Only this time, there was no baby growing in my tummy ... and it hurt! I had to remind myself that a baby IS coming and this will be HER room! I can't wait to get it done so I never have to do it again. I made sure all of the old paint is covered up so I wouldn't feel that pain each time I see it. I even painted the inside of the wall outlets and over all the old mistakes so that none of the old paint would show. I don't want it to be a painful reminder of what has been lost, but of the joy that is to come. I'm trying to motivate myself to finish it today so that it's done, but I'm having a hard time going back in there. Was it this hard for you? I think I will finally feel joyful that this will be Hope's room, but I wasn't expecting the process to hurt so much ... I'm sad that it's not Abby's room anymore and that we will never call it that again. Guess it's just part of the grief and another milestone for me instead of her ...

More

I thought about posting this as my facebook status today:

You can write whatever you want and I don't have to like it. You can invite whomever you want and I don't have to like it. But is that love?

Well, I can tell whomever I want, and you don't have to like it. I can be hurt and angry and you don't have to like it. But that's not love. So I am trying to forgive.

Things had been going well between myself and Chad's family for awhile after my miscarriage. I decided to reconcile with Nicole because I felt cornered in and there was no way out. They gave me no choice because it was clear that she was family and I was not.

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!