Remember That Part In Frozen?

It was a typical day like any other.  We had been running errands and realized dinner time was just around the corner. We decided to grab dinner, after ordering our meal we were settling down in our seats.  As I was hustling to get everything we needed, MarKay started to ask, "Hey mom, remember that part in Frozen when Elsa falls to the ground and cries because she heard that Anna had died?" 

"Yes, I think....she falls a lot in that movie," I replied. "It's when she falls and all the snow stands still and everything stops," she explains. The scene came to mind and I remember it being a beautiful yet devastating moment.  "Yeah I remember that part, why?" I asked, wondering where she could possibly be going with all this.  She looked at me with her big brown eyes and without hesitation she said, "That's how I felt when I heard we lost the baby."

So here we were in the middle of Chipotle eating our dinner and then this.  My heart dropped as I let those words pierce through my skin and sink in. I sat wondering how to respond, I was completely thrown off. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and just sob. But she didn't appear to be in distress or heartbroken, she was just matter of fact, she was just informing me. She was telling me her inner feelings, something she connected with a movie she had seen a hundred times before. She didn't care that we were in the middle of eating with people all around, or how it would make me feel, or that she may upset me.  I wanted to honor that and support her without making her feel like she was destroying me all over again.  Finally after what seemed like an eternity, I knew what to tell her. "You want to know a secret?" I asked. Her eyes were eager as she looked at me with curiosity. "Yes," she said with delight.  I leaned in and whispered in her ear,  "I felt the same exact way when I heard we lost the baby. You and I felt exactly the same."  I could see her excitement and relief, like she wasn't alone or dumb or silly. We hugged and I thanked her so much for sharing with me how she felt. I told her she can tell me anything and I would be there for her. 

It was important for me to not shut this moment out. I've been working on being present with every emotion I have, even the hard ones.  As I shared with Jerry on the way home, tears started to fall, I was doing it.....I was letting the pot boil over. Even as I sit here typing this in a crowded Starbucks, tears are flowing. 

There is something about my child wearing my heart on the outside of my body.  I have done or "been" so many things for my children during these last couple of months. But this time, my daughter did something for me. She was vulnerable, communicating her feelings freely without reservation in the safety of my reaction. Although I wonder if crying in front of her would have been a "better" reaction, I know that it wasn't the authentic response I had for her at that moment......and that's OK.  It was a great moment. One where I had pride for her....and for me. 

Piper has had those moments too. I was learning a new worship song and playing it over and over in the car on our way to church. MarKay asked me what the words meant. I said, "It means even when we are broken God still loves us and can use us. We can go to Him whether we are happy, or sad, or mad and He will always be there for us."  Then a little voice from the back said, "Even if we are sad like when the baby died." "Yes baby, that's actually what I was thinking," I said. After all, it was and is how I view so many worship songs...through the lens of sorrow. Maybe Piper does too. 

And maybe just maybe I'm not as alone in all this as I think. I have two girls who join me in their own way. God calls us to be more like a child.  In Mark 10:15 Jesus says, "Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it at all (NASB)." They live fully in the moments of life. Piper may be throwing a tantrum but she is 100% committed to how she is feeling at that moment. MarKay may just be inquisitive and curious about life and death, but she has no fear in expressing it.  They are innocent in their feelings and reactions to them. Wow, it is so pure and humbling to me. I want to be more like that.  I want to be more like that towards my Heavenly Father.

I'm starting to realize that I thank God for these hidden treasures of moments in time that I will never have again with my girls.  Each moment will bring its own challenges, insights, and lessons for me to learn. Each conversation will reveal their hearts to me as well as my own.  Wherever this road leads, I pray these bumps continue to happen and provide healing for us all.  After all, we are all broken vessels swimming in God's amazing grace.

Detached

I sat across from a dear friend I hadn't seen in awhile the other day and we began to "catch up."  I started to go through the last 2 months and just run at the mouth about life. I was very matter of fact and going through the 8 weeks as if I was checking off a list of happenings. After a little while of talking, I looked up and my friends eyes were filling with tears as she shook her head in disbelief. She consoled me with "I'm sorry's" and "that's horrible" and "I just can't believe it." As she sat there clearly upset for me I realized I was not.  I was detached from the words coming out of my mouth, detached from the emotions that accompany these happenings.  I've been out of touch with the real, the raw, and the ugly.

Since the loss I went back to the worst 2 months in a year-round teacher's life...the last month and the first month back to back. With open house and back to school night and saying goodbye to saying hello...I feel like a walking zombie on a normal year. But this year I called it survival mode, Just. Keep. Going.

Knowing this couldn't possibly be healthy, I consulted my counselor. "How do I deal with  everything else going on? I don't have the capacity..." I told her. She responded, "Put it in a small box not very far away and we will open it when you go off. Right now you do need to focus on a day at a time."

And so here I am sharing with my friend, stone cold.  I'm telling her the countless doctor appointments I've had with new doctors, where the loss is just another medical condition. Where thyroid specialists call it an abortion and receptionists unknowingly ask how I'm feeling and how many weeks am I now. Where I have to explain my "medical condition" over and over to new people as well as hear how abnormal it is for me to have 2 healthy children and 2 late miscarriages. Countless tests have been run all with no explaination.

I explained how my children have suffered, processed, and remembered. From them asking when Jesus is going to give us the baby back to MarKay recalling the moment she heard the baby died because she heard the same song that was playing in the car at that time. I recounted that the first time I met my doctor was her coming in to verify the baby's death.......and so on and so on.

So here I am, off-track, which means it is time to open the box.  I feel like ripping it open and diving in but as I crack it open, it is just overwhelming.  I sat across from my counselor and talked about what seemed like dumb petty stuff. My anxiety's in my relationships, being a mom, struggling with what seems like insurmountable selfishness, and work.  Near the end of the session I just said, "So when are we getting to the baby? This stuff is petty and it pisses me off. I want to get to the real ish, the real problem." She leaned into the couch from her office chair and said, "We are talking about the baby.  Whether you think this is processing or not, everything you are dealing with comes from the loss."

It's true. All the little things I'm dealing with were not what I was dealing with "before." It's new, and yucky, and ugly. It's my new normal.

My counselor also senses my disconnect with my emotions. After being in survival mode for 2 months I'm not in touch with myself. I don't know where I am at or how I am feeling about much of anything (except for all the unhealthy things). Next session I'm working with a sand tray....hmmmm ok......and my homework is to play with clay, play-doh, or a stress ball for 20 min whenever I can. Does typing count? I'm doing that!

Spiritually I've been honest, overwhelmed, and still. It's the one area that I say, "Well last time I...." a lot. But this time it's different no matter how much I think I can handle it, I can't. I've drawn and loved on Romans 8:26.

In the same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.

There has been a lot of interceding I have asked for. I continue to ask you to pray on my behalf as well. Pray that I am kind to myself during this process, that I am reminded of the immeasurable love that Christ has for me. That I am not a mere vessel of carrying pain but that my suffering will matter one day. That I would not make a list of "should's" for myself but make a list of "be's."  And more than anything, Gods mercy would be evident towards me during this time and if there is anything worthy of praise, that He would receive all of the glory.

When I open this "box" of emotion it seems like a never-ending uphill climb.  But every motion I take (step, stride, or crawl) uphill is one closer to the top. I'm ready to take on the hard work of re-engaging.....it's hard and vulnerable and messy but there is hope, and love, and strength given to me by so many of my blessings all along the way. Which makes everyday worth living in a real, honest and ugly way.