Tuesday, August 11, 2009

I average about 3 crying episodes a day now

And they can be at anything. Words spoken. A message from an Ebay user I don’t know. A commercial. Or sometimes for no reason what so ever. Jason thinks it cute when I cry for no reason. This happened to my mom when she was pregnant with me. So I blame her. ;P

Anyway – today has been emotional for me, for many reasons {including the overwhelming kindness of others} and I want to share some excerpts.

I received a book in the mail, to review for endorsement, which I am actually choosing to pass along to someone else because emotionally I don’t think I can handle it right now. Anyway, today I flipped through the back of the book looking for a happy ending {do you do that? Flip to the back thinking you’ll feel better if you knew there were some inspiring/encouraging/uplifting words at the end of a sad story?} I turned to a page, which immediately captured my attention and I read the whole page {okay, I read 3}.

{Mind you, I am partially paraphrasing here; this is not all word for word}

The author’s doctor’s office calls her with “You are pregnant. Congratulations! Have you been trying long?”

To which she replies “Uh, this is a complete surprise”

It was a complete surprise. A complete surprise. I was ready for the adoption. I was not ready for pregnancy. I was distressed.

She went and told her husband.

“Mmmm”

A grunt. That was all he offered. I looked at him again. He did not even make eye contact with me. I did not know what else to say. When three hours passed, I decided to break the silence.

“Well?”

“Well?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. You okay?”

“Yeah”

There was no celebration. There was no joy.

She went to her first OB appt …


I sat in the lobby and started into space. When my name was called I looked at the file in the nurses hand. The files on the shelf were standard manila colored folder files. My file folder was red.

“Why is my file red?”

“It’s because your pregnancy is high risk.”

“Oh.”

My file was so thick it had to be widened and carried with two hands.

The week of her loss came …

I was edgy and tense. I was also grieving. I remembered my daughters’ loss and everything that had happened. I thought about each moment. When the week passed I only felt slight relief. I was still holding my breath waiting for something to happen.

And I read further, looking for happier …

I sat down in my wheelchair and held onto my baby as tightly as I could. {My husband} pushed us down the hall. Family members took pictures. Other family members recorded video. We passed applauding nurses.



And then tonight in during bible study, I read this …

O God, who lifts the grieving head, blow away the ashes. But let Your gentle hand upon my brow. Be my only crown of beauty. Comfort me so deeply, My Healer, That I seek no other comfort.


And later, in the book of Isaiah read this …

Comfort, comfort my people, says your God. {40:1}.

And I can’t help but notice how the word comfort is repeated. It’s emphasized.


Each one made me cry. And in my mess of a mind, each one is related. These sentences are beautiful. Stories are meant to be shared. We are meant to literally feel words.

{If you’re interested the first book is titled From Crisis to Purpose by Tonya N Dorsey and is a memoir of the story of her daughter, whom she delivered & sent to heaven, thus I am not reading the book. Yet. It does look incredible.}

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