One by one, my friends have been giving birth to their babies. While I am sincerely happy for them, it continues to be hard for me to see them getting the one thing that I want so bad. My friends and family have made pregnancy and childbirth look so easy and I still can't believe that I wasn't able to bring my baby home. Each new baby brings pain, because of what I have lost, but they also remind me that there is hope for the future.
At this point in my healing process, I have a new perspective on difficult. I no longer waste time looking for anything in my life to be easy. Holding a friend's newborn son is not easy, but what is the alternative? Should I stop doing things just because they are difficult? I made the decision a long time ago that I would embrace life's challenges, even the most difficult ones.
Honestly, I believe that holding newborn babies is actually good for me. It is unbelievably hard, but it is also very healing. Plus there is something calming and comforting about holding a baby and those feelings are good for the body and spirit. Who knows? Maybe experiencing calm and comfortable feelings will help me in my efforts to get pregnant with my next baby.
One thing that is still difficult for me is that I continue to feel an odd separation from most people. It may be all in my head, but it is disturbing and frustrating to me nonetheless. I find myself struggling in social situations because I don't feel like I fit in with the general population. My anxiety has increased in recent weeks and I have to remind myself to breathe when I start to feel overwhelmed and anxious.
A big part of my feeling of separation is the fact that I have given birth and I am a mother but I don't have my child at home. Matt and I are parents but we don't do the same things that most parents do. We think about Keller constantly but we are unable to interact with him like typical parents and children. It is difficult for me to listen to parents talk about their children, either bragging or complaining, without feeling the full weight of the loss that I've experienced.
Matt and I continue to tackle the task of healing from Keller's death with quiet determination and a strong commitment to each other. We know that our strength and commitment are not earthly; they are gifts from God for which we are sincerely grateful.
It is a well-known fact that trauma, especially the loss of a child, takes a heavy toll on relationships. With that knowledge, I know that it would be easy for Matt and I to give up on ourselves and our relationship, but we really haven't gone down that road. We do struggle and have our tougher days, but we remain supportive of each other's unique needs.
I am consistently amazed at Matt and the way that he has taken care of me. One thing that a lot of people don't know is that Matt is only 25 years old. His maturity and strength, through all of this, is truly remarkable. I've never thought of myself as someone who needed to be taken care of, but it feels good to have someone who works hard to meet my needs and make me happy. I pray that I can be as supportive and encouraging to Matt as he is to me.
Time marches on and it is both comforting and depressing at the same time. As hard as it is to see our friends and family members having their babies, we can't just crawl into a hole and stop living. Our only obvious choice then is to continue healing and surviving, just like all the people who have experienced pain before us. We have goals and the hope that is necessary to achieve those goals. I can't predict the future but I pray that God continues to heal and comfort us so that we can move forward with our changed, but still intact family.
No comments:
Post a Comment