Heartbreak on the way to beautiful....

I was just doing the dishes and all of a sudden felt that primal urge to "surge" (see the book "Michael Vey" ;) ) what I'm feeling out into my keyboard, so here I am. I'm having one of those moments when I'm trying to hold myself together, to keep myself from bursting out bawling. Nothing bad has happened. Today is bright and sunny (albeit coooolllld!), the kids are happy, my husband is home safe and sound. We just enjoyed some hot chocolate after the kids came inside from doing some chores. Good stuff. But ever since Sunday the ache has been growing again. And a few minutes ago as I was washing a cookie sheet, the ache turned into words and feelings and tears, so I'm hiding myself away in my bedroom for a little while in an attempt to fumble my way through them, let myself feel them, figure out what I'm going to do with them, and *maybe* share them. Maybe. I'm surrounded by the people I love most in this world and yet I feel so alone right now. It occurred to me that I might need to find a support group or something. Or maybe this will be enough~ we'll see.

So. Sunday. We got up and went to church as a family~ something we haven't been able to do in over two months since Anthony's been gone. Something I personally had been doing sporadically during that time because of morning sickness and then post-loss hibernation and recovery. It felt good sitting there all together. I thought I was fine and things were looking up. Enter the father holding his newborn baby girl. Enter the Ache. It was so unexpected~ normally I see a baby and eat it up with my eyes~ I can't get enough! And I love to see the pregnant mommies. Well, loved. Sunday I had to turn my eyes away and take lots of deep, deep breaths and try to focus on other things. The place was crawling with pregnant women and babies (this is Idaho, people ;) ) I thought I was doing better, but I realized then just how NOT better I really was. The worst moment came in Relief Society. I was sitting there, waiting for class to start when this beautiful young mother came and asked if she could sit by me. I smiled and said "of course!", all the while keeping my eyes averted from the little one in her arms. Deep breaths. Why that day of all days a woman with a baby had to choose to sit by me....*sigh* Normally it's my favorite thing in the world! I love holding them, playing peek-a-boo, making them giggle, letting them play with my keys...Sunday it was painful, offensive. I didn't blame a single soul around me~ don't get me wrong. I wasn't angry. I just found myself feeling militantly defensive~ keep your head down, don't make eye contact and whatever you do~ don't FEEL anything! I think I did pretty well. I hope nobody noticed, and thought I was an anti-social jerk. All I really wanted to do was break down and cry and feel all those loving woman arms holding me up, telling me they understood, that they could feel what I was feeling and that I'd be okay, that they've got me. That desire fought with my desire to put on a happy face and not bother anyone. Happy face won. But still, happy face had a hard time looking anyone in the eye. I hope nobody needed me that day, needed me to smile at them and be the arms to hold them up~ I didn't have it in me to notice. I'm sorry. Hopefully next Sunday will be better.

I heard a song yesterday by Hilary Weeks~ it's called "Beautiful Heartbreak". If I needed an excuse to cry my eyes out, this was it. It was beautiful! The video coupled with the song itself reached in, grabbed my heart and wrung it out, then dipped it in more emotion and it's still being wrung out today. Music has always been the conduit to Heaven for me~ and Hilary in particular has always had the power to touch my spirit in a unique way~ I am so grateful for her! Anyway, the video shows images of these two amazing women who have suffered horrible tragedy and loss in their lives~ one woman named Stephanie, who survived a near-fatal plane crash with eighty percent of her body burned; another woman named Mariama from Sierra Leone whose entire family was killed in a war. I felt so much pain for what they suffered and was so inspired by how they chose to deal with it~ and then felt the inevitable guilt for ever feeling like I had suffered at all. I sometimes feel so badly for indulging in grief of my own, when so many have suffered so much worse than I could even imagine. What I go through seems so small. And yet, it still hurts, and no amount of guilt or comparison takes that hurt away. I've been feeling like I can't talk about losing our baby. Like I'm supposed to be over it now. It's been over three weeks. We were out pulling up all the dead plants out of the garden beds yesterday, and I couldn't help but walk over to my lilac bushes where I buried my little one. I wanted to just sit there and cry a little, but felt like I shouldn't. I have so much that is good in my life~ it feels like it would be ungrateful of me to dwell there. And, like I said, I thought I had moved forward a great deal and was doing "fine"~ but the fissure in my heart was only patched up with band aids, not really healed just yet. And that pain started seeping through with more and more force as I watched this video, even as I saw how much other women had suffered and felt love and sympathy for them; but I didn't feel like I belonged there, that I needed to pull it together and get happy. And then the end of the video came. Women were holding signs up~ one woman's sign said "lonely". Another woman's said "lost a loved one to cancer" and so on...and then there were signs that said "miscarriage" and "lost a baby". That's when I lost it. That's when I felt all those women's arms holding me up, even as I was alone in my room~ that's when I felt that my grief mattered, that it was important and that it belonged right alongside every one else's pain. And I was humbled, too. My sign was included in that beautiful video. It was exactly what I needed. It's helping me see that my pain isn't wrong, it just IS, and it hurts, and it will hurt as long as it needs to, but that the hurt will turn into something beautiful along the way if I let it. I have every intention of letting it. "It has to hurt if it's to heal." Honesty: Yes, I've had several miscarriages, but this was like nothing I have ever experienced~ it was probably one of the most physically painful and emotionally traumatic experiences I have ever been through. I was not prepared for it, and it hit me like a wrecking ball. So I have to let myself hurt and feel and hope people will understand. Please understand why I can't hold your baby right now, why I avert my eyes from your beautifully round tummies or seem a little stiff if the topic comes up. Please know I'm just healing, and I'm in the uncomfortable, ugly, scabby stage. It's not forever, and I'm "okay"~ just not as okay as I'd like to be just yet. Please don't feel uncomfortable around me because you don't know what to say (I noticed some of that on Sunday, too ;) ) Just be you, and let me be me, and if me needs to sniffle a little, I will ~and just know that your being there next to me, knowing and caring is all I need.

Words cannot express how grateful I am for the Gospel and its Author~ for the shape and meaning it gives to everything in my life~ the beauty AND the heartbreaks. And I am so grateful for how it binds us together~ how it makes sisters out of strangers and how the Spirit touches each of us in the unique way that we need, yet is the same light over us all. I am grateful that I know that ALL things work together for our good~ that the things I go through will give me greater understanding and empathy for others; that someone else won't have to feel so alone when they hurt because I've been there, too. And I am deeply grateful for the sweet women who, over the weeks I was going through this physically, took the time out of their already very busy lives to bring us treats and meals and hugs and love. It meant the world to me. I guess I have my support group already~ now if I can just get over my reticence and open up a bit more....is there a support group for that? Oh. Right. It's the same one. ;) Thanks, Hilary (again).