~~~ Flashback Post ~~~
Can't Find The Words (March 22, 2015)
While I have so many words to write, stories to share, memories I want to attempt to preserve (even though the hurting part within is secretly wanting to just quickly forget each and every passing day right now)… I have found my initial resolve to carefully journal and document this journey quickly waning, and I am quickly falling behind. Days are passing, but my fingers are not keeping up.
There are several reasons I’m pegging this to… the main and basic is that it’s just hard. It’s hard to write the words to share the reality we’re living right now. Often, I just can’t find any words, even though my mind is a continued swirling mess of thoughts.
I’m busy… I’m busy just trying to figure out how to live while waiting for the dying. I’ve spent days and weekends confined to the four walls of our bedroom as I laid in bed, failing to sleep, mindlessly flipping channels and nearly going crazy. I cannot function this way… it’s just easier to get out and do something… anything really… in hopes to help pass a few more hours.
I’m a mom of a teenager, who’s getting ready to graduate high school in a few weeks. A teenager who has struggled and worked his butt off his entire school career, and is getting ready to walk across that platform and receive a “job well done” diploma. I’m needing to plan a party for 250 people to celebrate this amazing milestone. I’m needed to help him plan his future and fill out paperwork, college forms, financial forms. He’s going to prom and needs a tux. He’s going to have an 18th birthday shortly and will need to celebrate with fullness and happiness. I’m in my homeward stretch of having those last few moments of him under our roof receiving my last instructions before he’ll be off into the great big world of almost adulthood.
I have a six year old who needs to do spelling words, and reading counts books, and so much guidance and watchful perseverance just to get through each day. He has never been an easy child. He’s energetic, a rollercoaster of emotions, predictably unpredictable, and very high maintaince with sleep and eating and most social skills. We love him to bits, but he needs to be poured into each and every day, most days requiring more than I fear I have available. And he doesn’t know… So we’re living as “normal” a life within our family walls, and life is far from normal.
I’ve turned forty and we celebrated our 11th wedding anniversary all within the last week. We did not want to party and celebrate it up, but others did, and we knew we should…so we let a small amount of busy happen to be blessed upon in very small scale.
I’m planning graduation parties, renting tuxes, doing flashcards, working full time, trying to plan an unplannable summer… and planning a funeral for an unborn little girl slowly growing and slowly dying within me. A baby we have so prayed and wished and hoped for. This is not how my life entering the big 4-0 was supposed to be like.
And one other thing that has led me to just not want to type, not want to share… Is that it’s already been shared. It’s already been typed. It’s already been, or being lived and shared by others out there. I’ve had blog links emailed to me, I’ve had book titles shared with me. We are not the first and only people walking through this reality. I carefully choose to read some of the words, the beginnings of their stories… and it’s so the same. So close to ours… Why take the time to muddle through finding words to express our pain? Someone else has already said it so much better, already written the book, updated their blog journey… While it’s a small comfort knowing we aren’t alone, this is not the only time this has happened, I also find it incredibly heartbreaking at the same time. And really ~ who will want to even read about this. It’s horrible. It’s sad. It’s unjust, not right, and downright not fun.
And yet, I can so clearly see God’s hand woven through all of it. That is something I need to keep looking for, keep hanging on to… and that I feel I must share, must journal and try preserve. I’ve said from day one, if all things are for the good… this is not a “good” for me or my family, so I must somehow figure out how to share it well, because the “good” in our story must surely be just to be “good” to someone else, probably someone I’ll never even know about or meet. Somehow the "blessings" in this journey will bless and touch someone else, because these "blessings" are painful, hard, emotional, and surely the Lord is not smiling down upon us as He “showers us” with them right now.
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