Resurface

I thought I was doing better...

That I had somehow managed to pull myself together and start moving forward...

At least that's what I thought...

But lately...

It is like someone has come and started picking at the scab.

 It all feels so fresh again.

Maybe this is normal.  Maybe this is how people cope with loss.

I just want to know when I will get over the deep, deep aching and longing for him.

When will I be able to think about him without feeling such incredible sadness and yearning.

Will that ever happen?

Does such a state even exist?




However far I fall I have to remember that my God is there to catch me.

He knows my pain more deeply and intamitely than anyone.

He gives gladness to the mourning and peace for despair.

"Sometimes faith is the absence of fear. Other times faith may be choosing to believe God even when your heart is melting with fear. Perhaps, then, faith is tested by what we do with fear, not whether or not we have it."

I love that quote! So many times we think a life of faith is living without fear or heartache, but really it is about clinging to God in spite of those things. With tear stained eyes and shattered hearts we look to him and cry out...sometimes with sorrow so deep that only He can truly understand and know. It is in those moments that we give birth to faith...when we reach out to Him and cling to his promises with complete and total abandon. Knowing and remembering sorrow endures for the night and that He is there to endure it withs us, even carry us through it. But thank goodness that where there is night morning is not far away. With the sweet arrival of morning comes joy.



So to everyone who is struggling tonight...

      to the broken hearted.....

                to the worn.....

                          to the one in deep despair.....

                                   to the overwhelmed.....

                                            to the scared.....

                                                      to the tired.....

                                                                to the sick....
                                                                           

                                                                         to the broken....

God wants you to know that he is here and that he knows your heart. He wants you to simply, with all of our baggage and junk, run to him. He will give you the strength to let it go. He will give you the strength to get out of bed. He will give you the strength to begin healing. He wants you to know that he does not expect perfection. He just wants you, and for you to know that he will carry you through the darkest of valleys. He wants you to know, that though it takes time, hearts will be mended and spirits will be restored...that joy will come in the morning.

Where Is the Pause Button?

Have you ever just wanted to hit pause on life, to just be still...
                     
                          Not wanting to go backwards...

                                              But not wanting to move forwards either?



Sometimes I want to snap my fingers and have the world just stop...free from all the noise, expectations, and unknown...to just know and feel quietness and peace.  I feel like so many areas in my life are bittersweet, and the thing is I'm tired of the bitter.  I just want the quiet and peaceful sweet.

Monday I was able to get an appointment with a fertility specialist the following week.  I thought for sure it would be the summer before I could get in, so I was shocked when she had an appointment available for the next Tuesday.  Now up until a few weeks ago I had put the idea of me having a biological child to rest, and I was at peace with that decision.  Then I went to a visit with my endocrinologist who told me I gave up too easily on having a child.  It amazes me, even now, how one sentence can hold so much promise and heartache.  That one sentence sent me in a tail spin, but after much deliberation we decided to pursue biological children again, hence the appointment with the fertility doctor.

Part of me is really excited and feels a little rejuvenated that we are moving forward with our lives and are once again working to have a family.  This is the sweetness that I love.  The problem is that this story does not stop with that last period because as soon as those words are out the bitterness sweeps in with its horrid sting.  For every ounce of excitement there is fear.  What if this fails miserably?  I don't want to go back to where I was before when we were trying to have a baby before.   I don't want to be obsessed or broken.  I don't want to be disappointed or heartbroken....I just don't.  I want to enjoy the sweetness.  I just want to stop right here in this moment, where the anticipation and excitement are found, and not move forward into the unknown.  If I don't go forward I don't have to confront disappointment.

I also don't have to worry or deal with the implications for us adopting.  If I'm honest (and I'm sure this is probably a season or part of the process of dealing with loss) but part of me wants to throw in the towel and say forget it.  I am tired of feeling guilty for wanting a baby and not a ten year old, or one child instead of two.  I'm scared of getting THE next call.  Will we have the courage to say yes?  What if this one leaves us too?  What if I'm too scared to bond with him/her?  How do we make it through the waiting to adopt knowing at any moment they can be gone and knowing EXACTLY how deep that pain will go?

And yet knowing all of that, I don't want to give up either because there is a chance that the fertility treatments won't work.  Where would that leave us?  Shawn (he's amazing) reminded me last night that we have to push through the bad to get to the good.  I want to cling to the sweetness of hope that there is good.  I want to press pause and just enjoy that feeling of quiet and peace.   I don't want to acknowledge the bitterness of this journey.

In January I started a weight loss program through the local hospital and have lost almost 35lbs.  It hasn't been easy, but it's been very rewarding.  However within the past week or so I have developed, for lack of a better word, an aversion to the meal replacements.  The thought or action of eating one literally made me sick.  This new development has been very, VERY upsetting.  I don't want to quit the program because I have had such huge success, but I can't keep not eating.  I don't want to quit the program because I'm scared to death of going backwards and gaining my weight back.  I'm equally mortified of moving forwards because it's overwhelming and I don't know what to do.  I just want to be...hit pause...and just be...that's all.

So my question to the universe is how??

How do you learn to just be?

Where is the pause button for life?

How do you learn to embrace both the bitter and sweet parts of life?

Lost

Exactly a month ago today CPS came to pick up our little guy and take him to his new home, and nothing has been the same since.  Right now I feel as though I am walking around in a daze...lost...not knowing which direction I am heading or even where I want to go.  The ugly truth is that you cannot avoid the grieving.  You cannot out run it or escape it.  You can only postpone it.  Eventually you have to acknowledge its unwelcome presence.

I miss him so much that it hurts.  I still want to hurl myself to the floor and throw the biggest tantrum this world has ever seen.  I feel angry that I can't have him back.  There is now this hole, a giant cavernous pit,  in our lives where he used to be.

So what now?

Where do we go?

What do we do?

How do we move on?

How do we find our way?

To further complicate matters, I recently had a visit with my endocrinologist who told me I gave up too soon and too easily on trying to have a baby.  I should have felt encouraged or excited.  But my reaction was quite the opposite.  Inside I was mad.  I had finally, after about two years, made peace with the fact that I wouldn't carry a child.  I didn't want to spend my life charting my periods, peeing on sticks, taking temperatures, or crying in bathrooms every time I started.  During that time I was miserable.  Now I finally have freedom from those feelings and with one simple sentence everything changes.  How dare he?  How do you move forward with fertility treatments and not revert back to obsessing about every small thing?  I don't want to be that way ever agin.

So what now?

Where do we go?

What do we do?

How do we move on?

How do we find our way?

On the adoption front we are back to waiting...again.  For now, I'm ok with that.  In fact for the first time since we started trying to have a family I am ok with nothing happening right now.  I'm ok if takes a while for us to get our next placement.  In fact I worry about it a little bit.  I don't want to hold the next child at arms length.  I don't want to be scared of loving or bonding for fear they will be gone.  This process has given me more patience.  I don't want to go back to where I was before we got him.  I was so desperate and depressed.  The waiting was excruciatingly painful and I felt hopeless.   I don't want to be that way ever again.


So what now?

Where do we go?

What do we do?

How do we move on?

How do we find our way?

Loss in Retrospect

48 hours before....

I was sitting at work trying to get random stuff accomplished making plans for our family vacation. I had been in contact with his case worker about therapy, visits, and vacations. When I got THE email it came totally out of the blue.  It said....

Hi Meghann and Mrs. Thomas,

A temporary hearing has been set for the case for tomorrow at 9am. It is very possible that the Judge will order me to move [him] to the cousin’s home which would mean that he would be moved on Wednesday. You are welcome to attend the hearing. If you do not attend, I will contact you after the hearing to notify you of what happened

At that moment my world stopped. This had always been a possibility. I had just thought that somehow we would make it...we looked like we belong together. I rushed home to see my sweet baby. As I walked in the door he gave that sweet gummy smile, plopped to the floor, and pounded his way to me. That's when the realization hit me...this may be one of the last times I experience this expression of his love for me.

24 hours before...

As we got ready I felt like I was preparing for someone's funeral. I felt anxious and sick.  I walked into court hoping that the judge would see we are the best place, this judge is praised for seeing the big picture. We waited almost 2 hours before he heard our case. When our time came we held hands tightly, whispered quiet prayers, and watched what would become the biggest heart ache of my life unfold.

 His cuss word of an attorney said he could go either way. That little mans placement was a toss up so he guessed he should go along with the guardians recommendation. The judge said, "I may be making a big mistake" and then ruled to place him with the cousin. If i heard one ore time that "he hasn't been in the foster home THAT long" I might scream. Screw you people, it may have only been our home for two short months, but the three of us love each other like he had been there forever. I am thankful that CPS was rooting for us.  They fought hard to keep him in our home. In fact the attorney for CPS apologized profusely and said she felt he would have been better for us.

After the ruling it was like everything froze and nothing made sense. How can I say goodbye to him? How could it feel and seem so right, just to have him leave us? Helpless, hopeless, broken, and empty is all I could feel. 

Family and friends files in and out of our home to say goodbye. The amount of pain and sadness I saw in their eyes was heartbreaking. You see, we weren't the only ones affected by this little guy. Everyone welcomed him into their hearts and lives.  It was a loss for everyone, and that made me feel guilty. I know I shouldn't. But I did. If it wasn't for our need to adopt they would not be hurting right now. I was not prepared for that. 

That night I was scared to go to sleep as if somehow it would usher the day in sooner. I wanted to fight the inevitable, to hold what was to come at bay for as long as possible. This was my pathetic attempt at rebellion. I laid in Shawn's arms and cried my soul out. Helpless, hopeless, empty. 

THE day...

I wanted to throw myself on the floor and throw the biggest tantrum ever. I wanted yell and scream and shake my fists the world. How would I ever survive this?????  I felt like I was leading an innocent lamb to the slaughter. This sweet boy who trusted me for everything was about to be betrayed. He had no idea what was coming, but I had to be strong for him. I choked back the tears until I thought I would burst wide open. 

The night before we had packed his toys and clothes. We wanted him to have Lall thecomforts of our home to ease his transition and help him feel safe. The morning passed in a blur. I felt numb. I felt like every minute was bringing me closer and closer to my death. The minutes marched on and could not be stopped. Everything we did was the last time we would do it. 

At 12:30 his caseworker came to pick him up. I remember watching her out him in his car seat and wanting to scream, "Stop! You can't have him!" But I didn't. Instead we kissed him goodbye one last time and watched him drive away. That was it...he was gone. We shut the door, fell to the floor, and cried out hearts out. The house suddenly felt so empty and too small all at the same time. 

After...

The next day I jumped on a plane and headed to Florida to work with Shawn. Each mile we put between us and the empty house was bitter sweet. The distance brought relief from having to make decisions and having to see reminders of him around...the random sock,a dirty bib, a bottle in the sink. But the other side of that was I was getting further and further away from him. What if he needed me? It would take forever to get back to Texas. 

At different times I find myself wondering how he is doing.  Is he happy? Is he scared? Is he waiting for us to walk through the door? Does he think we abandoned him?  Did she put bubbles in his bath the way he likes? 

The truth is you really can't escape reality. There are always reminders and thoughts floating in and out of your mind. The truth is that even though it was a short two months we fell in love, and losing him hurt.  But the greater truth is we are going to make it through this valley, and the greatest truth is God is and will remain faithful through it all. 

Chrystal Thomas

Empty

Today I feel empty...numb...broken.  This is not the outcome we had hoped for.  My baby should be playing at his table or I should be chasing him out of the bathroom for the millionth time...not this.  He left our home today around 12:30, and all I can think is is he ok?  Is he scared?  Is he wondering where we are?  Does he think we've left him?  Little things like a random sock on the counter or bottle in the sink make me want to scream for my baby.

Today I feel empty.

Never Once

On Sunday I heard this song at church and it spoke so beautifully to our situation.  One day we will be on the mountain top...until then...
                               through it all...
                                           God is faithful and never once did we ever walk alone.
This song has become a promise for me.