Pleasant surprise

I have to admit that I began this blog with somewhat selfish intentions. I wanted to work through this journey of loss in order that I may find healing and peace. Little did I  know that along the way I would touch peoples lives with my story. 

I'm so touched by the many e-mails, pm's and even face-to-face words of affirmation that I've received over the last month about Robert's blog. And while I'm honored and humbled, I also can't take the credit. I simply listened to God and started a blog. My words are His words.

It's hard to allow yourself to be vulnerable, but it's truly amazing how God can bless you and other's around you when you choose to let go and let God take control. 

So what now?

I'm not the only one out there who's experienced a loss or illness or some sort of tragedy. No one is promised a perfect life, devoid of pain. Life here on earth, and all that comes with it, is unavoidable. But regardless of where we've been, we make the choice of where we go from here. Are we going to let it crush us or will we come out on the other side stronger than before? Will we allow bitterness of heart and spirit to take over or will we savor the sweetness of the blessings we're given? The choice is ours. 

And then you take it to the next step: How can I love and impact others who may be hurting after a loss (or illness, etc.)? I love the book A Purpose Driven Life and especially that first line, "It's not about you." I've started asking myself a lot more what I can do to help other women who've experienced a loss. And even though the hurt is still there, with time brings clarity and healing. I know that God will use me if I allow him to. So what's stopping me? Why does stepping out in faith feel so hard? 

I miss my mom

I can't help but to miss my mom. No, my mom hasn't passed away but we have been estranged for well over a year. Which means that she never even knew that she had and lost a grandson. I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to pick up the phone and tell her, but I haven't. I remember wanting so desperately to call her the morning I delivered Robert. I was all alone in my recovery room, so exhausted in so many ways, and it took everything in me not to pick up my mobile and give her a call. It was one of those pivotal moments in my life when I really needed my mom, but I knew in my heart that she could not be there like I needed her to be. I was also very angry at her for that. But I realized, once again, that I can't expect something from her that she's unable to give me, therefore being angry is futile. 

I've had several people ask me how I feel about the fact that I gave my mom one of my kidney's and we no longer talk. My response: God does not make mistakes. I may not have the relationship I wish I had with my mom, but I know that she's alive and healthy. God blessed me with the exact family I was supposed to have. He gave me the exact dad, mom, sister and brother that he intended for my life. Who am I to argue with that? I also don't believe that it's beyond hope for me and my mom. It's so easy for me to say, "It's been like this with my mom for so long that it will never change", but then I am saying that I don't trust God. But I believe that God can change a person's heart. So I pray everyday that God's will be done in my broken relationship with my mom.

The one thing that I find so awesome is that regardless of the fact that I no longer have a mom or a dad in my life, it does not mean that I'm all alone. God tells us that he's a father to the fatherless (and the motherless). I find comfort in knowing that I have an amazing, loving heavenly father that loves me unconditionally. I also have a wonderful example of what it means to be a good mom to my own children.

Not just hope, but having faith

I don't believe that it's enough for me to "hope" that God has a plan for my life. That sounds too much like I'm making some random wish. I need to have faith in the promise that through seeking his will, he will reveal his purpose and plan for my life. It's so easy to get caught up in telling God what you want (and getting angry when he doesn't give it to you) instead of asking him what he wants. But it's so much easier said than done. 

I confess that I had a bit of a temper tantrum this weekend and for the first time in 6 months, I did not go to church on Sunday. I was angry with God and I was going to let him know. The pain of losing Robert hit me harder than it had in months and I could not understand how God could let this happen to me? And even worse, why it still has to hurt like this? But then I remembered Proverbs 3:5-6. "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight." He doesn't want us to labor over trying to figure this out; he wants us to know that he's already got it covered. Within my finite reasoning, there are so many things that I can not and will not fully understand. Within his infinite love and plan for my life, I don't have to. Isn't that an amazing promise?

Hebrews 11:1

Three types of people

In the last six months, I've come to the conclusion that I know three types of people since we lost Robert. First, there are those who've experienced this kind of loss and have nothing but love and support for me and for our family. They ask me how I'm doing (even six months out --- what a novel idea), they tell me that they're praying for me, they ask me about my son. Next, there are those who've not experienced a loss, but they desperately want to love us and to understand as best they can. They also ask me how I'm doing and admit that even though they don't know what it's like, they still care about me and what my family has experienced. And last, there are those who've not had a loss and just can't handle my loss. They show neither compassion nor friendship. They avoid me like the plague or even worse, just pretend that it never happened. I believe this to be the ultimate in selfishness. Or beyond comprehension, they actually blame me for what happened or say that I deserve what happened to me, that it's no wonder I lost my son. I know, it's hard to believe that these types of people even exist, but unfortunately, I have heard it all.

So to my friends and family who fit in the first two, I am grateful everyday for your love and support. I feel your prayers and love, and it has made a difference in my life. As for the third (and there are a few of them), I can only pray to God that this pain never touches your life. I'm not angry anymore, but I have moved on.

TTC and other stuff

With hope and fear, we are TTC again. We're on our third cycle, which is actually a  first for us (with Mason it was only one and with Robert, a matter of a few weeks). Waiting is one of the hardest parts of all of this. And then there's that disappointment when there's no BFP and only AF. Almost feels like insult to injury; to have a child die and to not get pregnant again. You can't help but to wonder "why me?". Even after all the tests came back and we were told that we'll definitely get pregnant again, I can't help but to wonder if there is something wrong with me. I know it probably sounds ridiculous, but I still can't help but to blame myself in small way for what happened; after all, it was my body that couldn't give him what he needed. 

It's also frustrating that my cycles have been so crazy since I delivered Robert last August. I'm so tempted to test, but I'm scared of being disappointed once again. So I just wait until AF arrives, then it's back to square one. At least it's fun trying.

I know that so much of this comes down to control. I want to try to control something that is not up to me, but up to God and his planning and timing. It is definitely the hardest lesson that I've learned so far: God is in control; I am not.