The last week...

This last week has been rough. I had been feeling far more optimistic and hopeful overall, and still do a lot of the time, but I have also been shown that there will continue to be ups and downs in this process called grief. It goes like this: One day you wake up and go throughout your morning as usual, not even really thinking about the fact that you had a miscarriage and lost a child just over a month ago. You may even make it through most of the day without giving that sad fact much thought, and at times you even start to think maybe you are healed and ready to move on. But then, some seemingly small, insignificant thing will catch you off guard and suddenly you are hiding yourself in a bathroom stall, trying your best to stifle the sobs and tears that come rushing out of nowhere. This can be as simple as hearing someone talk about their kids or seeing a new picture of someone else's baby on facebook. Other times, all it will take is for someone to ask how I'm doing for me to suddenly realize they hey, I'm not actually doing that great, thanks for asking. Things have definitely been better. Grief is funny in that it does allow you moments of respite in which you realize life is moving on and you will, in fact, be just fine. I think this is called grace, and otherwise we would not be able to survive the never-ending heartache. But I have learned that while grief DOES get better over time, much, much better, it does NOT in fact disappear completely. This might seem like common sense, but I have had moments of naive enough hope where I actually thought the hard part was over and that really I was perfectly fine.
I'm not perfectly fine, but I truly am so much better. I don't mean to be such a Debby Downer about it all, but the truth is that I am struggling a bit with the cold, gray January. I am so much better than I was a month ago, but still I feel sad. I feel broken. I feel scared for the future. Other times, I feel hopeful and encouraged, and I am thankful for those reprieves, but overall I am just passing the time and hoping these depressing winter months will pass quickly.
There have been other things that have fueled my sadness over this last week or so, and it is a shared grief for loved ones who are hurting. My beautiful sister-in-law is also going through a miscarriage, which she learned of just over a week ago. This should not be happening. She has been through this four times now, and having only experienced the horror of it once, I can honestly say I am in awe of her strength and ability to pick up the pieces and go on after such pain. I am grieving anew for both her and for the niece or nephew we already loved. I ache for her in knowing how horrible this feels. I want to make it better, and yet I know from experience that no one can really do that. And so, I pray. I continue to pray for the present and for the future, despite questioning how effective our prayers really are in the grand scheme of things. I pray because I know not what else to do. It's all there is at times, and so I do it.
Additionally, another dear friend who has seen me through so many hard times, found herself in a completely different, yet equally as difficult situation, and it is another situation I can empathize with. Her father had an emergency spinal cord surgery this last week, due to an injury which could have basically left him paralyzed. In their first night in the hospital, awaiting surgery, I thought of her and how she described the feelings of just sitting there "staring at him" while he slept. I remember similar nights with my mom last spring, where you do just want to stare and stare and imprint their images in your mind so as to never, ever lose them. It's in these moments where we bargain with God, where we BEG for healing, for relief from pain, for more TIME. We realize our parents are mortal beings who will not in fact be able to care for us indefinitely, despite us feeling like we couldn't ever possibly survive without them there. It is terrifying, and yet beautiful in that it's the only way for us to fully realize the value of these human lives. We love these family members more than we even know, and with such brushes with death, a whole new appreciation for that person emerges. Yes, that appreciation should have been there all along, but was not, simply because we never fully KNEW what it might feel like to have to say goodbye. Yet, I am happy to say that, like my mother, my best friend's father is pulling through this. He is making leaps and bounds in his recovery, and with that comes that same appreciation that we are being given more time. More time to love each other and be to each other what only family can be. I firmly believe, with all of my heart, that he is going to make a full recovery here and I can not wait to see that happen.

And so, as always, there is good with the bad. And there is a lot of good, truthfully. I am so blessed by all that have, and I am trying to focus on that. The future will be brighter, and I am also trying to focus on that. I have many moments of joy, despite the anxieties and hurdles (like finding out this week my pregnancy hormones have still not gone back to zero... Will this EVER really be over?). I have amazing classes and students right now, which is such a blessing. I mean, they are ridiculously good. They are hardworking and sweet, and they make me laugh during the times when I'd think it impossible. I also have a long weekend away this weekend with three of the people I love more than anything on earth: Phil, my mom and my dad. As we head to Pentwater to cozy in for a few days of bed-and-breakfast warmth, I plan to let go of my worries as best I can and really just focus on all I have to thankful for right now. This takes effort on my part, but it's an effort I'm willing to make.