Intoxicated and Hiding

Last night I had a dream. I was in an old hotel. It seemed to be a place for gambling, drinking, shopping and sleeping. Very 1920's. Except it was now. There were hundreds of people filling the place, all laughing. Music playing. People enjoying themselves. Except for me. I was lost and alone. All of the hallways, stores and rooms were dark and red with patterned carpet and walls. The hallways were long and winding. I was drunk to the point where I couldn't find my way anywhere. I'd ask for directions only to forget moments later, angry with myself. Stumbling. Confused. Scared. Utterly out of control. I don't know where I was trying to go, except for away. A group of my closest family members were there, including Jimmy, and they were all searching for me. I was trying my best to hide, running through the endless hallways. Drunk. Lost. And trying to avoid contact. I could not let anyone find me. Desperate. Stumbling. Begging myself to come to, out of the drunken stupor. I didn't speak a word. I didn't know where I was going. I just ran. Away.

And that's all. That was my dream. And I can clearly see how it was an image of how I felt yesterday.

The healing process for this loss has been different, but also the same. I am going through the same stages as I did with Poppy. The first few hours were very mechanical. I just needed to know the medical information; the diagnosis and what was to happen next. And, then, for 24 hours, I was great. So hopeful, so at peace with everything. So grateful, and just overall in complete understanding of why this was all happening. I accepted it, and was thankful to God for giving me another opportunity to grow closer to Him. That's where it was a bit different this time. I had a clearer picture as to "why" this was happening. I felt (and still feel) so close to Him. I knew/know that this is all in the plan, and that it is all for the good. With Poppy, I was so new in my relationship, that my faith was a bit more blind. I just knew I had to believe in His purpose. Now, I know why I believe in His purpose.

After the 24 hours was up, my heart finally became exhausted. I was no longer able to stand tall and smile. I was worn down. And, when the emotions were uncovered, they were raw. I was sad. I could do nothing but be silent, and be sad. Just like with Poppy, I couldn't speak. I didn't want to speak. All I could do was think. Think so much that my mind became numb. And that is not pleasant or beneficial. Next was anger. Not a fun emotion. And, again, not a beneficial one. Thankfully, that only lasted an afternoon (yesterday). And then the next stage was a re-occurrence of peace. Thank you, God, for that reprieve. Feeling sad and angry can really take it out of a person. I needed my old self back. The self that saw the silver lining. The one that realized that I am so blessed, even given this tragedy. That it could be SO much worse. That we are so so blessed. And that's how I went to sleep last night.

Maybe I don't even have to explain the dream. It is so clear what it was portraying. For the most part, yesterday was a day of being lost. Feeling out of control. Scared. Sad. Wanting to be alone. I was running from everyone that cared. And, when you are grieving, there is nothing wrong with that. You HAVE to be sad. It's part of the process. And, thanks to a great friend, I no longer feel guilty about being sad. Jesus is sad too. He cries with me. But reveling in sadness and letting anger (Satan, i.e. dark, red hotel) take over, is not what Jesus wants. And, so I am glad that I conquered that stage. And hope that, if it comes back, that I can escape it quickly through seeing the blessings in all of this. And get my brain back on the road to sober, in-control peace. Feeling out of control (drunk) and in a place of fear and anger is not healthy for me. It's a part of grieving though, and I accept that. But, next time, I prefer to leave the dark, red hotel behind and visit a cool, white, peaceful pool, sunbathing with my Jesus instead.

So, today has been OK. I have been very busy with work projects (thank God for distractions), and then spent the last few hours on the phone with insurance. Not fun. But that is behind me. Now, I just have to get through the next 36 hours. The surgery is Wednesday in the very-early morning. And, once that is over, I think that I can begin on the road to healing. The waiting period, when you know that the baby is no longer with you...but it is with you, is the hardest. Because you still have the little baby belly to look at when you shower, and the cravings and the hormones of a pregnant woman. It's hard to begin healing when you still physically and emotionally feel like a Mommy-to-be.

But, as I have learned through the loss of our many babies, I will survive. We will make it through. Jesus is holding me as I type. Healing my heart. Making me stronger. Opening my eyes to the blessings in my life. Giving me hope and teaching me patience. With every day that passes and every pregnancy lost, God's love is more and more evident to me. For example, Taylor. Do you all realize that Taylor is a gift from God Himself? Gift-wrapped and with a big pink bow on her big, cute belly, she was delivered to us as proof of His existence and love for us. I cannot get past that. It's such clear evidence to me that He is so present in our lives. He is alive. He LOVES us. He equipped me with the best medicine before all of this started happening -- a healthy daughter to love, to watch, and to laugh with through all of the tears. I feel so blessed to be her Mommy. To have a husband that loves me even when I run and hide from his love. To have family and friends that get on their faces in prayer when I feel weak. And to have a God that loves me so much that He will carry me through even the deepest valleys of grief. THAT is what gives me light in the darkest of life's hallways.