Waves of grief.

For weeks, I've been wanting to update.

Yesterday, while driving, I was thinking about all the things I wanted to say.

And of course, when I finally get the chance to actually sit down and write, my slate is clean because that's just the way it goes. But I'll try my best to say the words that have been running through my mind for the past  few weeks.

I'll start here.... things haven't been easy. Things haven't been good.

Liana? She's fine. Minus the cold she came down with last night.

Mike? He's fine too.

Me? Haven't been so fine.

Grief is a strange thing. One day you feel okay... maybe even fine or good... but then the next, you feel like you got hit by a train all over again.

Last week Monday, I felt relief. For the week or so prior, I'd felt that God had given me a reprieve. I emailed my friend Stephanie this:

The last two weeks have felt really strange for me.... almost like relief. I'm still sad about losing the baby and I remember every once in a while things like, "Oh, I'd be 16 weeks right now and definitely showing. Maybe even feeling slight movements." or "We'd be finding out the baby's gender in just a few short weeks." But overall, I feel like I've moved past it.... which honestly, I feel guilty about.

I think the biggest reason for my relief is that I finally realized that God taking some control over the situation was actually a little bit comforting to me. When the miscarriage first happened, I was angry at Him for taking my baby back. But after a few weeks, I started really thinking about how I had really felt when I was pregnant: nervous & scared about having two so young. I had always thought I wanted my kids close in age (2 years apart) and being the control freak that I am, I knew that I wanted my next baby in the spring again for a lot of different "Type A" reasons. So I leaped. I told myself that I'd be ready by the time the baby got here in May. But in reality, I don't think I would've been. I look at things now and am thankful for the fact that I don't have to hurry Liana out of her nursery. That I don't have to worry about potty training before we're all ready. I get excited about the fact that Liana can be more of a "big sister" and a help once our next baby comes along. I just feel like God took the pressure off me... granted in a very emotionally and physically painful way... but He still did it. I find myself thankful that I'm getting to enjoy this time with her rather than feeling exhausted and sick because she's SO MUCH FUN right now. I realized that having my kids closer to three years apart could definitely have its perks. I learned that the rules I applied for myself in my teens (ie: having my kids 2 years apart) didn't necessarily fit how I was feeling 10 years later. I see my friends who have a less-than-two-year-old who are pregnant and due in the coming months and see their anxiety about introducing a new baby into the mix. I know they'll do fine.... but I'm thankful that I don't have the worries that they have right now.

I just feel like this miscarriage has transformed my life into something I never expected. Like God knew a better plan for me. Like He knew what I needed even when I didn't.... more time.

And then that night, I got an email. An email that changed everything I had been feeling so quickly.

In the subject line was, "Your Pregnancy: Week 17."

And there I laid, on the train tracks.

In one moment, everything changed. Again.

Last week, I couldn't stop thinking about it. The grief was more painful than ever before. I just kept thinking about how big my belly would be. That I'd be starting to feel little kicks. That we'd be finding out the gender of our baby just before/after Christmas.

For days I was in a funk. I wanted to cry but for some reason, I couldn't. (We'll talk more about this later.) And it didn't help matters that no one knew how I was feeling, including my husband.

Then on Thursday, I went for my weekly afternoon date with Ashley. We talked deeply. I spilled my guts. I even started to cry.... "started" being the key word there. (Again, we'll talk more about this in a minute.) Ashley encouraged me to cry, to talk to Mike, to be easy on myself, to let myself feel these emotions but still find hope in what lies ahead.

Friday, I made her proud (though she doesn't know it until now). My first visit was an hour away from home and I let the tears stream down my face the entire way there.

Friday night, I cried some more. Finally, I let Mike into how I had been feeling. I think he was a bit shocked at the fact that this was still so hard for me.

Since then, things have gradually been getting better with regards to the miscarriage. Thankfully, the pregnancy emails have FINALLY stopped coming. Each day gets a little brighter but I won't deny that the pain is still there.

I still miss my baby. I still miss what I had hoped would be.

However, things are no where close to easy yet. While the grief I've been feeling for myself is temporarily subsiding, my grief for what other's are enduring right now is painfully strong.

I'm praying fiercely at night. For Stephanie. For Ashley. For Linda & her son Ike. For Carissa & her son Trenton. For another friend... who shall remain nameless.... that received some shocking (in a good but possibly scary way) news on Wednesday. For my papa, whose skin cancer has spread now from his face to his hands.

My world is full of pain right now. Full of worry. I just want something good. Something amazing. I want a miracle for my family and my friends. I don't want anyone to suffer or live in fear anymore. I want our children to be safe and free from harm.

As I walk through this journey of grief though, I'm learning a lot about myself. I've learned that I'm a lot stronger than I ever thought I was... and I've always thought of myself as a pretty strong person. I've learned that I grieve differently than others do. Many women cope through tears.... I tend to cope through anger. I get angry at the world for being so harsh. I get angry at God. My faith has truly been tried over these last few months but yet I still find myself praying to Him at the end of the day. Praying for release. redemption. healing. answers. miracles. I'm thankful He has strong shoulders that can bear my burdens and my pain... and that those shoulders can handle the anger I sometimes throw at Him. I don't feel guilty for sometimes feeling this way because I know He can help me through it. He has this far, hasn't He?

I've learned that while in my professional life I tell people not to bury their emotions... I am guilty of doing just this. I often say things like, "You have to let yourself experience the grief because if you don't, you'll eventually explode and all those penned up emotions will just come pouring out." Yet here I am, penning up my own. People ask me all the time how I'm doing and many times I lie. My mind screams "Not good" but my mouth says "Fine". Because that same mind tells me that if they really want to know the truth, they'll ask the question more assertively. I'm okay with not always sharing the truth, just like I'm sure people are sometimes more comfortable with not always knowing the truth. It can be easier that way.

I've learned that it seriously takes a lot for me to cry. And not because my heart doesn't want to, but for some reason, I just don't allow myself to. I'll find myself standing over the kitchen sink washing dishes and all of a sudden I'll feel that twitch in my nose that lets me know the tears might be coming. Rather than let them come, I scrunch up this nose of mine because it's the only thing I can do that stops the tears dead in their tracks. I'll be alone in my car and a song will come on that makes me sad and again, I'll scrunch my nose to stop them from coming. Even when it's completely "safe" to cry (ie... I'm alone), I don't let myself do it. I wish I did, but I don't.

Even when the tears do come, I have a hard time letting anyone else comfort me. This includes Mike, which is upsetting to both of us. The ones who are most comforting are the ones who have also experienced this kind of pain... and Mike just doesn't understand. I really struggle with that at times because this was our baby.

I'm highly anxious about how the next week or so will go as we bounce from Christmas party to Christmas party.

So I know I've asked for lots of prayers lately, but please keep them coming. Pray for my friends who are coping with hardships or shocking changes. Pray that Trenton and Ike are healed. Pray that Ashley's boys remain healthy. Pray for no other miscarriages. Pray that my heart is peaceful this holiday season.

I love you all for doing it. Thank you from the bottom of my only-slightly-broken-these-days  heart.

Also, Mike and I are considering taking a "second honeymoon" come the first of February. Because our first honeymoon was just a simple trip to NYC for a few days and we've never taken a full-blown vacation just the two of us, we thought it would be nice to do this while we have the chance. However, I'm slightly anxious about going away when two of my closest friends will be welcoming their babies into the world (or home from the hospital in Ashley's case) around that same time and about spending the money to go. We have more than enough in our savings but as the planner that I am, I hate to tap into it for something that's not deemed "absolutely necessary". So, give me your input. :)