No Holding Back

Living With Purpose

Rough Waters

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Grief is a funny thing. You’ll be chugging along, everything is great and life is good, and then BOOM. You’re knocked to your knees out of nowhere.

I recently had a day like this.

Sundays are difficult in general. I get the three kids up and ready for church, and often have to deal with my oldest fighting tooth and nail. He wants to stay home with daddy. The girls go into the nursery easily, but Bug cries and throws a fit when it’s time for him to go into his Sunday School class. Instead of a morning of peaceful reflection and refreshment, I find myself harried, stressed out, and wondering why I even bother to go through this every week.

But I know the reason. I know that I promised to do so. And I know that it is what I want for them. To be raised in a religious environment because I need help in providing them with the morals and values I would like them to learn.

But I digress. Last Sunday, I went through this routine, but eventually made it to my Sunday School class. I look forward to SS. First off, it is filled with people who have become very close friends over the last several years. We all have children in the same age range, several of us have experienced the loss of a full term baby, and we are all actively trying to find and promote peace in our worlds.

We discuss important themes and try to apply the teachings to our contemporary lives. Right now, we are studying the book The Five Love Languages. If you have never read the book, it is an amazingly insightful look into why we have conflicts in our relationships. The book teaches us to understand and speak the love “language” of those around us, particularly our significant other. So we’re talking about the assigned chapter, which is about “Gifts” and the class moderator asked all of us what we considered to be a gift that our spouse gives us. Not material gifts (although it could be I suppose) but the special gifts that make us feel loved.

I was the only person in the room without my spouse. When it came to my turn, and I tried to describe what a good gift would be for me, I found myself getting very emotional. I told them that it would be the greatest gift if my husband was there with me. I wish that we shared a commitment to our faith. I wish that he at least acknowledged how important it was to me, and went anyway.

So the tone of the morning was set. I just kept tearing up through church. A beautiful baby girl was baptized, and her brother sang a little song for her. I cried. I felt so alone.

And I missed my baby girl tremendously.

Since Kathryn is buried in the garden at the church, I often visit her after the service is over. This time, as soon as I knelt by her stone, I was absolutely overwrought with emotions, and I sobbed. For the first time in a very long time. I let it all go.

And then I pulled myself together, dried my eyes, and went to collect my three children.  I survived the rough waters and hoped to be sailing toward calmer seas.

Although the moment had passed, it reminded me that somewhere deep inside, those feelings of grief and sadness still fester.

I guess they always will.

If you have suffered through the loss of a pregnancy, infant, or child, please know that you are not alone. Come join our community at Sunshine After the Storm.

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Comments

  1. It’s so true. One of my triggers is big fat snowflakes. During the burial for Victoria there were the biggest, fattest snowflakes I had ever seen in my life. They were coming down so fast it felt like little kisses. Since then there have been a lot of days with snow like that and every time I feel loved and lost, all at the same time.

    Also, have you read this?
    http://www.aholyexperience.com/2014/02/how-tired-people-make-love-have-an-anything-but-boring-valentines-day/

    Warning: It made tears roll down my face. Then, through a shaking voice I read part of it to my husband. It’s really beautiful.

    You’ve made me think, too. My husband is catholic, I am Baptist. I don’t have a church here. He goes often. Maybe I should go with him, even though our beliefs don’t line up exactly, just to be there for him.

    Reply

    • Thank you for this comment, and for the link. I will read it later when I’m alone and my kids don’t think something is wrong with me if it makes me cry. Snowflakes… that is a beautiful reminder. I would definitely ask your husband if he would like to have you with him. I’ll bet he’ll say yes.

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  2. Grief really does come in waves, and it is amazing what will pull you into it. I know what you mean about your husband, maybe not with this particular topic, but in general. And that can be hard. Sending you hugs and love today my friend.-Ashley

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  3. I haven’t lost a child, but even I have experienced other losses and have found myself overcome at certain times and not even sure what may be the trigger, but you are right picking ourselves up and getting through it is all we can do. Hugs Alexa and thinking of you today.

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  4. Having my Aunt die in December(she was young and it was a tragic situation), I’m beginning to understand the way grief does just hit you like that. I will have good days where I feel ‘normal’ and bad days where all I want to do is cry. Then there are the moments in normal conversation where someone says something totally on target but all it brings up for me are thoughts about my Aunt.
    It sure is like nothing I’ve experienced before. I’m glad you had a time, space and place to let it go. I know that is much needed.
    Take care,
    KC

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    • Thank you so much KC. I am sorry for the loss of your aunt. It really stinks saying goodbye. It’s always too soon, isn’t it? On a totally unrelated note, I did finally make the organizer. I need to get you a picture!!

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  5. Oh, Alexa. I hear you on the husband front. That’s hard. And that grief will never go away, I suspect. Wish I could be there to give you a big hug! I’m always here if you ever want to talk!

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    • Thanks Jen! Just knowing that you are there for me if I need you is so helpful! I appreciate the words, and I’m sorry you know what I’m talking about on the husband front!

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  6. Although I haven’t lost a child, there is so much in this post that speaks to me. The grief coming in waves, oftentimes when you least expect it. The desperate wish for your partner to be on the same page as you. The picking yourself back up and moving on yet again for the sake of your children and loved ones. You have articulated so much here, and for that I thank you.

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  7. So hard, Alexa. And here I was grumbling about cold coffee and making a mistake on a prior job and I realize…my tender heart breaks all of the time. It has since I was born, probably. And I wonder what it could take if it had to – I hope I never know.
    Thinking a lot about you today.

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  8. Oh Alexa, my heart aches for you. I hope yesterday was a little better Sunday. I can relate to wanting your husband to be with you – I often take the kids to temple alone because we are of different faiths. I wish we weren’t, but I’m grateful that he supports our raising our children in my faith. That’s big.

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  9. I have not experienced a loss like your, but I do b believe grief comes in waves and we never quite know what will trigger it. Sundays can be very emotional – on MANY levels! I and love the Five LoveLanguages! Hugs to you!

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  10. Grief never ends because love never ends and the two walk hand in hand so closely. I’m sorry you had a day with so many triggers. Sometimes, we can roll along and BAM – something blindsides us that trips us up emotionally. Hugs.

    Reply

    • Yep, you got that right. And as much as it hurts to hurt, I don’t think I would give it up, because when I am hurting seems to be when I learn the most about life, and when I remember the most about love.

      Reply

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