(These pictures were taken a couple of weeks ago. Everything is bare now and not quite as green, it is definitely late November now.)
The pain comes in the quiet, when I am still. It is swift and hard and catches me off guard. At times it takes my breath away and causes me double over. I cry out “why?” I weep. I want my baby. I didn’t get to kiss him enough, or hold him enough, or look at him long enough. He is not here and I feel like part of me is missing. It sounds cliche but that is the best way to describe what I’m feeling. This grief is hard and raw.
How do I combat it? What do I do when I start to feel sorry for myself? I become grateful. I start to list all of the good things.
I did get to hold him.
I did get to kiss him.
His brothers and sisters were able to meet him and love him.
Look at all of these beautiful faces around me.
When I pick Henry up he wraps his arm around me and pats my back, his other little arm wraps around my neck.
My husbands strength
The landscape around me
my list goes on and on....
My grief slowly turns to joy. I take a deep breath and keep going until the next time, the next bit of quiet. I have to go through this. It is just part of it. It has only been 3 months but it almost feels like a lifetime ago.
I will continue to be grateful because our God is good and generous. Life is hard and messy, and yet beautiful. My God, and all of the blessings that I have will help carry me through. All grace.