Grief is one of the hardest, most complex things I’ve ever known. I can go from one emotion to another in a second - from guilt, happy, sad, angry, hopeful, and failure. Allowing myself to take the time to feel all of those emotions as they have come, and my faith, are the only ways I’ve been able to slowly pull myself out of the grief fog over the past eleven months.
I’ve felt guilty since the day Isaac passed away. I’ve blamed myself because my only job was to keep him safe while carrying him in my womb. I’ve asked so many “what if” questions that I’ve lost count. I’ve gone over every scenario with Tom and my doctor, and both have assured me over and over that this wasn’t something I did, or could have been prevented. As many times as I’ve heard that, there’s still a little voice within me that says “You did this to him.” “Maybe I shouldn’t have had caffeine that morning, or danced at my brother’s wedding.” “Maybe I should have lost weight, or realized there was something wrong before it was too late.” All of these thoughts, and more, have brought me to a crumbling, sobbing mess more times than I can count. But, lately instead of asking those questions I’ve been leaning more on this truth I grew up learning:
And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose. – Romans 8:28 ESV
Maybe losing Isaac wasn’t a punishment for not doing all of the above mentioned things; maybe losing him was just part of my story. Maybe losing him was to make me more empathetic towards others, and to learn to love more, and to learn the hard way that life is too short. Why would I assume that by giving my life to God would mean that I would only have happy moments, and no sadness? I won’t lie, at the beginning I was very angry at God – how could He let this happen to our precious son? I was angry at other moms that had healthy babies. I was angry that the world seemed to keep going when I felt stuck frozen in the moment I lost Isaac. But, through all of that anger, I kept repeating the following verse, sometimes hourly, just to get me through.
Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him. – James 1:2 ESV
This little boy has brought forth so much love in his little life. I still don’t know why we had to lose him or go through this, but I know deep down that God chose that little boy for us. And, if I had to do it all over again, to have Isaac with me - even for that short time, I would do it again without hesitation.
How very softly you tiptoed into my world. Almost silently. Only a moment you stayed, but what an imprint your footprints have left on my heart. – Author Unknown
I’ve often thought that maybe I don’t have the right to grieve him since I never met him. I feel like it's taboo to bring him up in conversation because he was never alive outside of my womb. I feel like maybe if he had been born alive and lived for a few minutes or hours that it would be “acceptable” to talk about him, or post about him. However, he was my son, and no matter if I lost him at 6 weeks, 20 weeks, or when I did at 34 weeks – he was and always will be my son. And I have accepted that I have just as much right to mourn my son as one who lost a child that was born alive.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. – Matthew 5:4
As hard as it is some days to tell my story, I’m reminded that I owe it to Isaac to honor his life, and to let the world know that I’m so thankful I was chosen to be his Momma. So as the many emotions of grief take over me, without warning, during the next days, months, and years – I won’t let it keep me down. Instead, I will focus on the love that Isaac brought to our lives, and spread that love to everyone that I can. I’m choosing love over grief, and I’m choosing to focus on my faith in God to keep me going. I will allow myself to feel all of those feelings, but then I’ll pick myself up and choose love because love always wins.
What we have once enjoyed and deeply loved, we can never lose. For all that we love deeply becomes a part of us. – Helen Keller
