Surviving

It's been well over a year since we buried William. Most days I don't notice the gaping hole in my heart, but some days it still throbs. There are times when I feel 'normal', talking with friends and laughing together; but the really good moments are followed immediately by a collection of sympathetic stares. I can't talk about anything in my life, jobs, hopes for a baby, or anything else without everyone looking at me like I'm crazy. I know most people (especially women) truly do sympathize with our loss. Those who have experienced it remember the pain, and those who haven't are unsure what to do. I wish more people would SAY something instead of just looking. If you're really unsure what to say, whisper a quick prayer and tell me that. If I say something that is wrong or inappropriate, let me know. When you don't say anything, I always assume the worst.

I have some amazing friends. Many women stop occasionally and ask how I'm doing. I know several are praying for me. Those prayers are all that gets me through my really bad days. I hate that talking about miscarriage is so taboo. I hate that this experience has been so isolating. I hate that my boobs sill swell up when I hold a hungry newborn. I hate that I'm jealous. I'm still jealous. I try to fight it, I try to accept the blessings God has given me, and quit begging for more, but when my period is late and another friend announces her pregnancy, my heart just breaks. I want to believe I have decades left to have children, but most of the people I know who've struggled to carry children only have one or two. I want things in our life to go well.

We celebrated our anniversary yesterday. It's only been three years, but we've had a long three years together. We've lost jobs, a baby, gained vehicles and a church family. Our lives aren't perfect, but they're going the way God planned.