sarah & chet

I feel detached lately.  I sometimes think deep pain is better than complete forgetfulness.  I'm writing this blog from the cemetery.  I'm sitting on a pile of dirt, where only a few feet under me lays the body of my child.  I felt that I needed to come here to clear my head and pray.  Kelly reminded me today that the Word is the only true comfort we can get, so here I sit about to read some Psalms.  It's surreal to sit on top of ground that holds the body of your baby.  

Is this a normal phase of healing?  (What is normal any ways?)

I saw a pregnant friend yesterday and I thought to myself, "I wonder what it feels like to be pregnant?"  The fact that I had been pregnant before mysteriously did not cross my mind the whole time I stared at my cute friend.  Her belly and smile made me wonder how it must feel to anticipate a child and experience it's miraculous growth.    

And that is why my wonderful day ended in tears last night.  Maybe I am crazier than I thought I was?  How is it that I can go three or four minutes without even the faintest feeling of remembering my pregnancy?  I laid in bed and tried to remember the happiness of last year.
  
I would have gladly traded my usual "recoil a little at pregnancies-reaction", for the complete loss of memory I had yesterday.  7 1/2 months isn't even far away, yet I am having a really difficult time conjuring up the feelings I had just last year at this time.  The memory of a baby kicking me almost seems like a far away dream.    

Hmph. So I am basically just writing today to console my heart.  To remind myself that I was pregnant.  I did enjoy the ultrasounds, kicks, appetite, choosing a name, praying over someone only I could feel.  

This weekend someone said that Chet and I are missing out on kids, and that we should have them.  (Or something like that.  I was lost at "they should have kids.")  Thankfully, even though probably not the most wonderful thing to hear, it did make me grateful that I still have feelings and knee-jerk reactions to statements about our child(ren).  I was relieved to be cognizant of my emotions.  Being detached is far more aggravating than getting worked up over a thoughtless comment.

The Psalms already have me feeling better.  This verse gave me peace: For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past. Psalm 90:4  I know our time on earth is such a blink in comparison with eternity.  

My heart is lighter.

I truly do not know how people grieve without Jesus.  Without our mighty Comforter, I would be am even bigger mess.  

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone