Wednesday, April 23, 2014

And here I am.

The visitation and the funeral are over. My sweet baby has come and gone.

And here I am.

I want to write it all down.  I need to write it all down. But I just don't have the words yet.  And every time I try to type a sentence the tears start.

But I was afraid that if I didn't try to write something - anything-  today that I wouldn't ever want to write here again.

Dan is back at work today.  His company has been so kind to him with all the time off he took for his mom and for Rebecca and for that we are so very grateful.

Peter and Sarah are still on Easter break this week and honestly I'm glad.  Not quite sure I'm ready to be sitting in an empty house.  Although, part of me thinks a quiet house may be exactly what I need.

I'm a crazy tangle of emotions.  Crying one minute, laughing the next.  Wondering why this  happened at all, thanking God that we had her even briefly.

I'm always trying to thank God.  And I say trying because if I'm being very honest these last two weeks, I haven't felt very thankful.  But I'm trying because I read a Lenten devotion last week that I can't stop thinking about.  Every Sunday at Mass, I hear these words...

"Before he was given up to death, a death he freely accepted, he took bread and gave you thanks, he broke the bread, gave it to his disciples and said, take this all of you and eat it. This is my body, which will be given up for you."

I've heard those words so many times that I guess I've taken them for granted.  But this devotion I was reading reminds us that right before his death, a very painful death he did not deserve, Jesus gave thanks!   So, even in my struggle with Rebecca's short life and her death, and my questions, and my tears, I am trying to remember to give thanks.  It's not easy.  And I'm struggling with it, but I'm trying.

And I'm going to try to get back to normal - whatever that is -  around here.  The blog will have pictures and stories of fun times and normal life.  But I'm sure it will also have moments of sadness and reflection.

Because just like my tagline says up there, I'm just taking it one day at a time.








24 comments:

Suburban Correspondent said...

Give yourself time. And I'm sure God understands if you are not feeling very thankful right now. It is amazing how some passages of the Mass really resonate when you are suffering, isn't it? I remember completely breaking down when I attended Mass after a miscarriage, so it must be even harder for you.

I still cry, thinking of that day in church. I felt so forsaken and loved at the same time. As if God was sad he couldn't give me what I wanted. Such a sad, final NO.

Lucky as Sunshine said...

I remember after I had delivered my son (stillborn) the doctor's discharge instructions: resume to "normal" activity. I told him afterwards, how hurtful that was. Nothing will seem normal for a bit, you will work towards it, each day. You will cry, you will laugh, and then cry some more. Some days you will want nothing more to sit in your pajamas all day & do nothing, which in my book is perfectly normal.

Praying for you on your journey, back to what most call normal.

Billie Jo said...

My friend...
You have never been gone.
You have been in my heart and mind every. single. day.
Prayers and hugs and love. That's all I can offer you from afar. : )
I so wish there were more.

Elise said...

Praying for you and your family, dear Beth.

peach said...

You are incredibly strong.

Colleen said...

Wow, that reading was powerful, I always take it for granted too. Another "spin" on it is that you gave up your body for her for the past 9 months, growing, nurturing, protecting, loving Rebecca so much even though you knew the probable outcome. What love!!

Kelley said...

There is no road map for grief. God truly understands your pain, he is strong & patient enough to withstand your anger, and he is constantly loving you. Make no excuses, because this is your journey & only you know the right path. My thoughts & prayers are with you and your husband.

Aimee said...

You've been in my thoughts every single day, and I wish so much that I could do more for you than pray. But since I can't, I'll keep up the praying. <3

Ferrell Boys Mom said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Ferrell Boys Mom said...

You have been in my thoughts and prayers! My heart hurts for your loss. Continue to lean on your faith in God and his Word and prayerfully you will get through this painful time. I'm really at loss for words. They just don't seem to convey what I want to say to you. Know that I'm praying for y'all.

Kay said...

I know these days are hard. I remember my first days home after we lost our little guy. I really didn't know what to do with myself. Just give yourself time (and God)...it will come.

Kelli said...

I read that with tears running down my face. You have been in my thoughts. Praying for you....

jennwa said...

You are an amazing woman. And handled all of this with strength and grace.

You always have a shoulder to cry on when and if you need it.

We all love Rebecca very much and she will be greatly missed.

Madeline said...

One day at a time is thankfully all that is asked of us.

Many prayers have been offered for you and many more to come.

Mari said...

You, Dan and the kids have been in my thoughts and prayers frequently. I'm glad you posted, and glad you're just going for one day at a time.
I'm sure God understands your feelings at this time.

Busy Bee Suz said...

Your strength amazes me. One day at a time…that is all you can do. I'm so glad you checked in here though. You've been thought about and missed.
XOXO

deborah said...

I can only imagine the myriad of emotions.
I would be struggling with thankfulness too, yet knowing it's the right thing to choose.
Praying for Jesus to comfort your heart and hold you when you can't take another step. And He will. He will give you strength and hold you when you cry.

Micaela Darr said...

Oh, Beth. So much love and prayers. Yes, be thankful. But take your sorrow to Him, too, and don't be ashamed of it. God loves you and wants to ease your pain. Hugs, hugs, hugs.

Jamie said...

Continually praying for you, Beth. If you need someone to just listen, call anytime.

Kim said...

So sorry for your loss. You are on a difficult journey. Giving thanks with you for the precious life of Rebecca.

Happy Wife and Mother said...

Oh, I am so sorry. I left a comment a few minutes about on seeing the post of your baby's birth. I did not start at the top of this blog, so I did not realize your loss. I am truly sorry.

May God bless and comfort you.

With love,
Hope

Mary Lenaburg said...

Grieve one day, one hour at a time. Sit with Our Blessed Lady and let her comfort you as only she can. Know that you are being surrounded with prayers and lifted up as you grieve your sweet angel Rebecca. Know that we grieve with you. Blessings friend!

Jill Flory of Sew a Fine Seam said...

Beth, I popped in today to catch up. I've had you in my thoughts and prayers - and I'm crying for you as I write today. I just read your journey through Rebecca's birth and life. I wish I could give you a hug - a virtual one will have to do. I have a friend who lives near me who just lost a T18 baby. He lived for 45 minutes. My heart just aches for all of you mothers who have babies in heaven. There are no words. None. Just know that God loves you and is carrying you and there are a lot of us out here praying.

Michelle said...

When grief is so sharp and strong, faith seems so close and real. Our Therese was buried on a Saturday morning. When I went to mass the next day, I was such a mess. My husband and I sat in the back(my parents had kept our 3 young sons), and all I did was cry. The poor man sitting on the side of us must have been so uncomfortable! But I remember that as the priest held up the host during the consecration, that I felt such a thanksgiving and gratefulness in a way I had never felt before. I was so thankful that He had died for us so that my little girl could be in Heaven. As sad as I was and despite all my grief over missing our daughter, there was so much comfort knowing where she was and knowing that she was being cared for.