Thursday, February 17, 2011

Beautifully, Painfully, Unexpectedly Bittersweet

It has happened on a plane, in a church, at a wedding, at my desk at work, on the phone, looking at our mid-rearranged-repainted home and while standing at the fridge getting some juice.  In all of these places and then some, I have been struck completely unprepared with waves of grief in missing Luke.  There I am,   going about my business and from out of nowhere, I am suddenly crying and cannot regain composure.  Things like mountains, ring bearers, a song on the radio that is on Luke's special Playlist, sweet photos of Luke's feet, baby registries and nursery dreaming have just completely tipped me over lately.  I know it is part of the healing and grieving process and that I will always feel like something is missing in my life, but that does not make it any easier to handle in the moment as the hot tears make their way down my cheeks and onto my shirt.

As we move closer and closer to sweet baby girl's arrival, I am reminded more and more intensely of all we did miss out on with Luke.  The preparations, the choosing of gear, the picking out and decorating of his room, the shopping for teeny tiny clothes, the dreaming of long nights spent awake together, the joyful expectation of everyone around us, the watching of grandparents prepare too, the worry of not knowing how best to care for him, the classes taken to learn how, the nesting nesting nesting that simply takes over as a mama prepares to welcome her baby.  I didn't get to do any of that for him and it rips at my heart if I allow myself to ponder all of that reality for too long.

Some would say simply, "Don't.  Don't do that to yourself.  Why ponder it?  Why focus on the past?  Why make yourself extra sad?" And while my intention is not to wallow, stay in the past or torture my already fragile heart, I cannot help but believe that there is also somehow power in naming what I am missing...in identifying the new ways my heart is aching and missing my sweet Luke as I go into this next chapter of motherhood.  In a way, by allowing my tears to fall and recognizing those agonizing emotions for what they are, I feel it honors not only his precious life but also his ongoing presence in our lives.  The power part of the naming comes in just remembering and allowing Luke to continue moving forward with us into our future and not leaving his memory or presence behind...not running from, ignoring or avoiding the truth that our loss of him still hurts....will always hurt...only in new, unexpected and beautiful ways. 

One of my deepest ongoing fears and worries has been that as sweet baby girl prepares to arrive here in the world, that her older brother would somehow be left behind, and not as present as he has been in our lives. I am so worried that he will be forgotten and "replaced" in other's memories by other healthy babies we may be so blessed to have.  What I am learning is that I will probably always harbor that worry in my heart.  However, I'm also learning something unexpected as I journey forward toward baby number 2.  With each person who sees my belly, asks about my due date, asks about her, I'm blessed with opportunity to weave in a little bit of Luke too. 

It feels like I've been asked, "Is this your first?" at least three thousand and one times by well meaning, wonderful, kind hearted people....people who genuinely just simply don't know our story.  While I know that many people do know our story, I'm learning that there are so many more who do not.  Instead of struggling through these moments, I decided to change my perspective and view these conversations as an opportunity and gift  I'm being given to share just a whisper of Luke's story with so many more people.  He is absolutely not forgotten, he absolutely is not being replaced, he is still being thought of with so. much. love.  And every time I get to answer a question about our family, my heart both aches and smiles as I remember him, say his name and share our bittersweet story of when we became a family of three.

While there are times I cannot wrap my heart around how much we have missed out on with Luke, I'm reminded again and again with each delicious kick in my belly, of all of the beauty, delight and wonder that awaits us with our beautiful daughter.  Our days now have many more bright spots than sad ones.  We laugh more than we cry and we find ourselves doing a lot more dreaming about our future than we have in years past.  We are more than eager to meet our beautiful daughter and delight in her life...and we are looking forward to every single moment with her.  So now, when asked, I'm able to add some beauty with the bittersweetness, some joy with the grief, some hope with the tears....our journey continues forward only this time I'm able to see so much more beauty than heartache. It has not been easy, but we are oh-so-eagerly anticipating becoming a much dreamed about family of four.   


 

3 comments:

  1. Oh, Sarah! You are so beautiful. Your children are blessed to have you as their sweet Mommy. Your Luke will never be forgotten. You and Joe have ensured that by sharing his story and the story of your becoming a family. I love you and I love Luke too.

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  2. Love, I love it! This sentence... "So now, when asked, I'm able to add some beauty with the bittersweetness, some joy with the grief, some hope with the tears....our journey continues forward only this time I'm able to see so much more beauty than heartache." ...has the fingerprint of a master wordsmith.

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  3. So beautiful, friend. And I also just read the "naming it" section in 1,000 Gifts. Made me think of you!

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