Two days ago was our 9th wedding anniversary and just over 10 years since I met my husband. He got some more time off to spend with me this week and it has been so nice just having him around, even though we haven't done anything spectacularly special. While we were having lunch on our anniversary Berlin started singing "I Am A Child of God" all on her own and it was the highlight of my day. Then I ruined the evening by mysteriously setting off my moody teenager's attitude and I ended up having a breakdown because I felt like a terrible mother. Of course nobody was accusing me of that except for myself, but I confess that in the moment all I could think was that I lost my baby because I wouldn't have been a good enough mother for him. Or if I was such a good mother, where was my baby? I just wanted my baby. I still want my baby.
Today we were able to go to the temple (thank you for a heaven-sent last-minute sitter) and I only cried about 12 times. I think. Worst/best of all was after the session when I randomly opened the Bible to its bookmarked page. I have this thing I blame on my mom when I need comfort... I just open the scriptures and see if there is a verse or chapter that jumps out at me that pertains to my situation. It usually works. Anyway, this time what it opened to was Matthew Chapter 1 and 2. The birth of Christ, and then Herod's mass murder of all the babies age two and under. Seriously. Out of the whole Bible it landed on that and I was a blubbering wreck because of this one verse:
"In Rama was there a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted, because they are not." Matthew 2:18
I felt like I was being reminded that I was not alone in my pain, and that it was right that I should mourn. That millions of other mothers have felt and still feel what I feel. That my Father in Heaven also knows my grief and that my Savior felt that and much more in Gethsemane. And my pain felt smaller for a moment as I thought about that.
It used to be a mystery to me why the first response to a tragedy seems to be to send in meals. Now I get it. If not for the dinner-angels it's completely possible that you might not eat or forget to feed your kids, or if you do eat it's likely to be stuff that's very bad for you. And even if feeding yourself is not a problem, food just TASTES better when someone else makes it. Especially in our ward. We could have our own cooking channel. I apparently have a lot to learn in the kitchen, and I've been inspired by the new flavors we've been treated with over the last week. After Berlin's birth we had meals delivered for a few days and it was nice, but I was mostly oblivious because my mom was there to help out and I had a new little life to care for. Now I really understand and appreciate the help. Plus it's hard to feel too bad when you have a warm cherry pie sitting on your counter with your name on it. Talk about comfort food!
Okay I have a confession. I feel a teeny bit guilty, like I don't really deserve all this attention and meals and help that everyone has showered us with. I definitely feel like I need it, and it's helping, but I feel like I shouldn't need it. My experience seems so small compared to other things that have happened to people I know. It used to be that many people didn't even consider a stillbirth or miscarriage at this stage to be much of a loss at all, it was just rejected tissue. But as a book pointed out that I've been reading recently, the death of an unborn baby is the only phenomenon in which a person experiences the death of another person literally inside their own body. It's not really easier just because I didn't "know" my baby. I did know my baby, I carried him and fed him and he was mine. His name was Logan. He was there and now he's gone and I'm empty.
And yet... I have a husband and two beautiful daughters and parents and in-laws and brothers and sisters and friends. I am young(-ish) and healthy and I'm still living so every day is a chance to make my life better. So far so good on my New Year's Resolutions, I can't think of any I've broken yet. Except maybe eating that pie didn't help too much with #6. Hmm. Then again, it definitely helped fulfill #10 so I think that cancels itself out.
2 comments:
Janisa, so glad you found me through Wendy. Let's email eachother...we have a lot in common and it really helps to talk to someone who has been there. merrie81@yahoo.com
Dear Janisa, this was very touching to read. I've saved it in roots magic in notes for Logan. thank you for sharing your feelings. love Aunt donna
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