The heart is a strange thing isn’t it? I’ve been watching the Chapman’s this week. If you don’t know who they are, they are a Christian family whose dad, Stephen Curtis Chapman is a pretty famous singer in the Christian circle. Personally I love his music and have been to several of his concerts. Anyway in May, they lost their 5 year old daughter, Maria Sue, to a terrible accident, in which their son, Will Franklin was involved. The mother said something yesterday that has stuck with me and I woke up with those words in my head…She said, “The heart of a mother” and then something else and she was talking about how she didn’t really care if there tragedy helped anyone, she wanted Maria back. I’d never really heard it explained so well…
You see I’m still sad about my baby, not all the time, but sometimes more than I think is okay but now I think it’s okay, it’s just my “mother’s heart”. I don’t know if that makes sense but it feels alright now to feel that pang of sadness now and again. I have a friend who said that not all miscarriages are as bad as mine, not everyone feels labor pains, vomits, is sweating, doubled over in pain. She said some are just like really bad periods. I said I wished mine was like that and she said “ well at least you know it was real” I think I have post-traumatic stress disorder or something, images pop into my head at the weirdest times. I can see Jason helping me wipe dripping blood from my leg. I can see the panicked look in his eyes. I can see myself sitting on the toilet, sweating, crying, screaming, wondering really why no one told me it was going to hurt this much. I can see Jason looking at me and I remember thinking, “I look terrible”, funny kind of makes me laugh now, but not really. I can feel the doctor probing around and I can feel Jason’s hand holding mine and I remember thinking, “well guess we don’t need to finish the babies room” I can hear myself begging my mom to come to the hospital and I can hear her telling me not to cry. I can see myself grabbing my rosary from the mantle and putting it on my belly and praying, begging really for the baby to be okay. I can hear myself telling Jason, “I don’t think it’s going to be okay” and him saying, “It will be okay, I promise” (the only promise he ever broke, so far) Blood everywhere, the morphine that numbed me to what was really happening, my family sitting in the emergency room, mom, dad, sister, brother and my aunt and as they rolled me out I remember thinking how much I had let them all down. I was really hungry, my mom brought me some animal crackers, my sister and brother came over to our house and sat and watched a movie with me. I knew I had to look okay so they wouldn’t worry. Anyway it helps to write about it, even though I’m pretty sure most people are tired of hearing about it but that’s what helped bring me back, it was my support group for ladies who have miscarried or had stillborn babies, here was a group of ladies who understood my heart exactly. Every once in awhile someone would come along who had escaped our circumstances, gotten pregnant or adopted and who would tell us it would get better, most of us wanted these women to take their happiness and hit the road. I had a well meaning friend who told me I should talk to someone. Little did she know I already was and they said I should talk about my feelings because it would help. The problem was after a certain point I got tired or grew weary of the support group and wanted my “regular” friends back but most of them didn’t understand the grieving process. So when I told them I couldn’t’ sleep at night or woke up for no reason, or when I told them I’d been sad for a couple of days or so, or even when I just wrote about how crappy I felt I got well-intentioned advice or really nothing at all. I mean when I finally was able to reach out, only a few people were their the rest were living their lives, doing their things and didn’t have time for my “stuff”
Anyway as I listened to Mrs. Chapman explain how she felt, as I listened to her talk about her “mother’s heart” I finally realized after all this time that that’s what it is, that’s what I have and it’s perfectly normal. I have a “mother’s heart” and that heart wants it’s babies with it, it was like a light switch went on, blink, “It’s okay to miss your baby, it’s normal, you don’t need “help.”
It was normal to wake up in the middle of the night and to feel like there was darkness in your heart almost all the time, for awhile. It was normal to be sad around pregnant ladies and to skip baby showers. It was normal to cry when movies about ladies having babies were on TV. It was/is normal to miss my baby. Mrs. Edwards said it best in her book, “Saving Graces” she said, to paraphrase, it never really goes away, it’s always there lurking in the background, but you must go on. Mrs. Chapman said something similar when she said she didn’t really care if their appearances helped anyone, she wanted her daughter back, but if she wasn’t going to get her back then she was going to honor her in some way. It was normal to not want to be around your friends for awhile or to just be sad. It was and is normal to want to talk about it, once in awhile, usually for me, it’s when something triggers the memory, an anniversary, special event, someone like the Chapman’s, thus here I am again and as usual after writing my heart is a little lighter. Stephen Curtis knows he’s going to dance with his daughter once again, in heaven. There aren’t many people I believe who will get straight into heaven but Stephen and his wife perhaps are two people who will and I believe they will dance with their daughter again just like I believe I will see my daughter and spin around with her just like I do with Laina J Her birthday is next Tuesday, her party is on Sunday, Sesame Street. Jason says that we do everything just a little overboard. I say I don’t care, most people don’t know what we know about kids, most people don’t understand how truly precious they are and if people think Laina is spoiled well that’s their prerogative I suppose but I prefer to think of her as loved and I don’t really think you can go wrong by spoiling someone with love, at least in my 12 years of teaching I’ve never seen a kid spoiled with love turn out rotten. I’ve seen lots of un-spoiled with love kids who do rotten things and who sometimes turn into rotten people, but I guess that’s another blog….
So on Saturday I have to pick up 6 four foot tall balloon bouquets of Cookie Monster, Elmo, Bert and Ernie, Big Bird and Oscar, tomorrow I’m baking Elmo and Cookie Monster cup cakes, yesterday we built a sesame street sign and a pin the nose on Elmo game and packed gift bags and wrapped prize gifts and wrapped a couple of birthday gifts for the birthday girl who said, “Elmo, Elmo” when she saw the paper and I am excited to watch her enjoy herself, hoping she won’t be sick, Jason brought home some nasty cold the other day, so I’m going to do the only thing I can do. I’m going to pray to God to help keep Laina well so she can enjoy her party, to help me not get too much more sick so I can do what I need to do and I know He’ll hear me. I know some people who think that God doesn’t get involved in everyday intricacies of life that he just kind of sits back and watches. I know some people who think that there are so many other problems in the world why would God have time/or want to deal with my problems. That’s not the God I know, the God I know told me, “You are never alone” and from his book the God I know promised He would always be with me and that he cares about every aspect of my life from the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep, he has the hairs on my head counted and knows all the thoughts and prayers of my heart. That’s how I know He hears my prayers and He performs acts and wonders even to this day, big and small. I don’t know why he took Maria Sue or Baby P, well I kind of understand that a little better now, but I don’t understand the Chapman’s loss but someone else said life is like one of those photo mosaics where it’s one big picture made up of lots of different pictures, you know? It’s not until you step back from it that you can see the image and I suppose Life is the same, it won’t be until we are able to look at the whole of our life that we’ll understand the image or impact of a life well led.
I have a worry box and I write my worries down and stick them in the box, it’s black and is labeled worry box and usually I feel better after I do it. I have one particular worry I haven’t put in the box, it’s one of my biggest fears, losing Jason, having him die or get sick or something terrible. I write my worries down or talk about them because sometimes it makes them seem less intimidating and other times it reminds me who really is in charge. My worry box (on the outside) says, “Drop in your worries and God will take care of the rest.”
Well not sure anyone is still with me; this was a long blog even by my standards. Ha! I feel better and you know despite the fact that I have a runny nose and despite the fact my poor baby girl may be sick at her own birthday party, we’re going to have a nice weekend, I’m going to run, as long as it stays a head cold, and decorate and give a birthday party for my beautiful 2 year old daughter and enjoy every minute of it…
So today for Mrs. Champman, who put into words what I couldn’t, for my “mother’s heart”, for a God who cares about every aspect of my life no matter how big or how small, for my worry box, for birthday parties, and for everyday I have my family, oh almost forgot today's the 8th(I have a day date to get ready for)…I Give Thanks!