We lie in bed at night and I know if Steve had his way, he'd be asking me if I was okay every other moment. He holds back, because he thinks he'll drive me crazy, so I try to tell him anyway. We eventually fall asleep, holding hands and waiting to feel normal again.
"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and He saves those whose spirit is crushed."
Psalms 34:18
I feel exactly what the verse says: brokenhearted and crushed. I smile, I laugh, I go grocery shopping, but underneath everything, I'm sad and I feel heavy. Steve goes to work, he eats lunch with his co-workers, but I know he feels lonely at his desk and really just wants to be home. I know there are times when he walks around stunned that life has gone back to normal so quickly.
I have sweet memories, like telling Bella about the baby and how she was going to live with Jesus. Bella wanted to know if the baby was going to get to meet the "three men". I asked her who the three men were, and she said, "You know, the three men that visited Jesus when HE was a baby." I said, "Oh! You mean the three wise men? Yes, baby Lily will get to meet the three wise men." I'm not sure if Bella's more sad that the baby won't be coming to live with us, or jealous that the baby gets to meet the three wise men before she does. I assured her that she would get to meet the wise men one day, too. It will interesting to see how she processes these changes as time goes on...
And I have weird, crushing, unreal memories, like walking around Target to find something that can act as an urn for the baby's ashes. I know it seems horrifying to go to Target, but everything at the funeral home seemed like a vial that a vampire would drink out of. I wanted it to be something we chose personally. So we paced the aisles of Target until we found a small, beautiful, stone vase that we both loved. I don't know if it will be our permanent decision, but it brought some peace in that moment to know we have a place for her.
The calm in my heart sometimes seems temporary. The night we came home from Target, I laid in bed and just started to cry. Everything about it felt wrong. Everything about it IS wrong. You shouldn't have to choose a place for your baby to rest; she should be inside of me, growing. I miss being pregnant. Sometimes, when I first wake up, my hand goes to the bump that is still there, and I start to remember all over again.
Today is my first day "alone", and I feel okay. I'm surviving. I've tried to plan this week so that I still have help and places to take the girls. I'm not sure I could emotionally or physically handle being alone with them all week by myself, so each day, we're spending some time with different friends. It's a chance to let Bella feel some normalcy, and I guess, me too. Steve's parents are planning on being here for the long weekend, which will be wonderful, too. We've had so much support around us - people have brought dinners, volunteered to watch the girls, sent texts and messages - it's been an incredible blessing.
Scripture keeps me sane when I start to become overwhelmed with grief, and Steve sent me this verse yesterday...
"But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning, great is Your faithfulness. 'The Lord is my portion,' says my soul, 'therefore I will hope in Him."
Lamentations 3:21-24
The Lord is my portion. The Lord is enough.
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