Wednesday, September 18, 2013

The truth is

  • I'm not okay. I am hurting. Most of the time I feel okay, and then, out of nowhere I am sobbing.
  • I am afraid to hold a baby. I don't know how I will react. What if I cry? What if I don't cry?
  • I am deeply hurt that there are people that I consider close friends or family that still, almost 3 months later, have never acknowledged the loss of my baby.
  • My empty arms ache.
  • I don't want people to feel sorry for me when they read this. I am blessed beyond measure, but I still miss my baby.
  • I wonder what people think of me when I tell them my daughter is in heaven. It is my truth. I cannot deny her, nor can I deny my Savior. My baby girl is safe in the arms of Jesus Christ. But I am still sad.
  • I miss a very dear friend. I miss her phone calls, her sarcasm, her genuineness, her laugh. I miss our adventures together.
  • I am blessed to have a new friend that I can be truly honest with and not worry about being judged.
  • I don't know how I would survive if I didn't have Joey. I hate that he has to see me sad some days, and he has to ask, What's the matter, mommy?
  • I don't like going to the cemetery. My little girl is not there. Her body is, but she is not.
  • I am afraid to share anything at my mom's group, because I don't want to cry. The tears are always so close to the surface.
  • I am loved by an almighty God, who is big enough to handle this, who has something wonderfully amazing in store for me.
  • I am angry sometimes. But it is not a righteous anger, it is an anger over things I cannot control, so I pray to not feel this way.
  • I am doing the best I can. Some days I can cook and clean and paint my house. Other days all I can do is sit on the couch.
To all who mourn in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair. In their righteousness they will be like great oaks that the Lord has planted for his own glory. Isaiah 61:3


  1. I totally understand. I wear indestructible mascara. I run away from babies. I spend far too much time sitting on the couch, staring into space, and missing my baby. I'm praying for us xxx

  2. Wendy - We have not forgotten that you and Steve are still grieving. It is a difficult situation, but from reading your blog, we sense progress in your recovery. Grief is a work, and it is hard work. It appears that you are working your way through all the "stages" of grief. Everyone doesn't necessarily go through those stages in order; everyone is different as to how long it takes them to work through each of those stages. You and Steve are definitely looking in the right direction - straight at your Savior. He will not fail you. We are praying as well.
    Another favorite from Isaiah 40:28-31:
    "Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary? there is no searching of his understanding.
    He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength, even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall; but they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint."
    Keep walking; you are not walking alone.
    Randy and Dorothy Cox

  3. Wendy,

    Thank you for sharing. Thank you for being a part of our church family. Thank you for lending Steve to me one morning a week. We love you.