Seven years ago, this very day, we were at Graylyn taking the only maternity pictures I had ever had done, to document my last pregnancy. Well, what I thought would be my last pregnancy. It was a gorgeous Saturday, the weather was the same as today but a bit sunnier and I was so incredibly happy and felt so at peace.
That is what I remember the most about that day when I occasionally look at the pictures,
"the old me".
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Fast forward seven days and we were holding Jacob, three weeks early, and he was already gone.
The contrast is hard to stomach but seven years of time helps to dull it, most of the time. We still grieve and at the oddest of times. Sometimes, it's still hard to just get through life, the daily grind of life with four kids. My reserves are less in so many ways and yet I resentfully can endure more in a lot of ways. Sometimes I feel the pull of those two dichotomies at the same time and when I do, I want to just crawl in a hole. Actually, lately, I want to just crawl in a hole. The thing is, I naively thought that after you lose a child no pain could compare to that and I'd hit my quota in this life for pain and loss. But in these last seven years I've learned that in life, grief and loss come in so many ways and at so many different times, no one can escape it, not even a mother who has buried a child. We lose friends, the familiar, jobs, routines change, some good and some bad, but loss is just a part of this life and my reserves to handle loss, and especially the grief that follows, those reserves feel nearly gone.
So after years of not writing, distancing myself from the past to attempt to live in the present and doing a terrible job at it more often than not, and probably surviving (muscling through) some undiagnosed postpartum depression, I am writing now to say what it's like after seven years for me at least. There have been wonderful beautiful moments and times but the reality is that it's plain hard. Hard in ways I can't even articulate. It's hard to live in the present and yet I know it's the thing I need to work on the most. There is so much fear in becoming attached to anything, or anyone, especially after all of the loss we have endured losing Jacob, our Godson, Dan's mom, all his Grandparents and all the other life losses we've had. I hate that pain is a part of this life and I still yearn for this life to be over, not untimely and not now, but I yearn for my whole heart to be together, and to have all my children together, and the reality is that time won't come till we are all with the One who created us. I think that is the hardest part, your heart forever being torn between this world and the next.
What I cherish the most is the unconditional love of my living children, Dan and my family. As many times as I feel/know I fail, or they have been unfairly gifted a broken mom, wife, daughter, they continually give me a second, third, two hundredth chance and truly do love me unconditionally. As we go into this Lenten season which for us starts tomorrow, I am praying that God will open my heart in a way I feel like I can't or rather haven't been able too for some time. That He will take away a lot of the fear that I feel has been a constant companion for way too long. That I'll find some courage and strength to find and embrace happiness again, to really laugh again and to find joy again. Just know that you don't have to lose a child to feel down in the dumps and if you have lost a child, chances are you may feel down in the dumps a bit more, but I think true compassion grows out of true pain. I have no real wisdom other than, the grace and true love of others is where I still find hope in this life. And today, unexpectedly, I experienced a lot of grace and love. As I go into this week leading up to what should be Jacob's seventh birthday on the 17th, I hope maybe I can grow to show more love and grace to others, and to myself, without the side of fear.
To my sweet Jacob, who I miss intensely, mamma loves you, and happy seventh birthday in Heaven.
