Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Three Months

I've been in a bit of a lull the last couple of days. I spent the latter half of last week dreading what I was calling the quadruple whammy in my head--Father's Day, Sunday, 3 Months on Monday, 3 Months From Her Birth today.

I am sitting at the end of the quadruple whammy and feel like the air has been sucked out of my lungs. But I guess I have survived. I pray for a life beyond day-to-day surviving, but I know it's a long time coming. The rest of this year just looms for me right now.

I thought I was exhausted when I was pregnant.

I had no idea. Grief is a whole different exhaustion, awful, soul-draining.

Yesterday, I was impressed with myself for getting out of bed, getting dressed and going to work. 3 months without my daughter kept running through my head. And yet somehow, I still functioned. And was productive. And yet I hated it. Hated it. I hate it all. I am ready for Christ to come, anytime. I am so ready to see my daughter again. And I cannot imagine all the years ahead.

I also got to hear a colleague of mine (whose child was born in the morning of March 20th, and my daughter died sometime that afternoon, yes) say the most asinine things yesterday. I was sitting in his office with another colleague, and the other colleague was teasing him because he is moving in a couple of weeks to Hawaii.  The other colleague said to him, "Stuff just really seems to work out for you. Why is that?"

He picks up a coffee cup on his desk that says "Faith" on one side and the verse "For I know the plans for you, says the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (I'm paraphrasing, forgive me if this isn't verbatim).

He points to the word "Faith" and says, "See this verse? If you have faith, good things will happen to you. I'm a great example of that."

I could literally feel the world screeching to a halt as I sat there.

Before, I would have dismissed that comment as stupid. Now it's just absolutely offensive. For all of you mamas, papas and families who have lost a child out there, my guess is this entire line of thought rings a little hollow.

I have always been blessed with strong faith. Before, I took it as a gift from God. Now I take it as a lifeline. I understand that a lifetime of faith, of prayer, has led me to this moment, to this struggle. I know it will lead me through other struggles in my life. I pray to God fervently that this is the worst one I have to endure.

I guess what I'm saying is that, for those of us who have faith, we never really know, do we? The last time I checked faith did not equal totally happy life on earth. The comments of my colleague make me angry, like somehow my faith is deficient and that's why life sucks so bad right now. It's irritating to me that a fellow Christian would say this to a non-believer and just turn him off. This is like Christians who say it should all be "ok" because there's a heaven to look forward to.

The last time I checked, I still have to make it through this life before heaven. And this life feels unbearable most of the time right now, despite my faith, despite my assurance of heaven.

The gospel of wealth. Ever heard of it? Such B.S.

Admittedly, as a Catholic, I'm probably pretty comfortable with the suffering side of the faith. We don't tend to shy away from it. Ever read descriptions of the Sorrowful Mysteries? Those confront true human sorrow face to face.

Despite that, I do expect more from my fellow Christians. I know this Christian colleague was trying to testify or minister to my non-Christian colleague, but really? The whole comment just sucks.

I need to stop stewing on this. It just happened to happen on the wrong day. The wrong day.

I have spent the last 2 days in a 3-month lull, thinking to myself, what is three months? Three months since her death? Or do I count three months since her birth, the next day. Three months, a quarter of a year. Three months, a third of my pregnancy.

Ugh. I wish I could turn off my brain. Sometimes it just doesn't work.

I miss my Georgiana so bad. Today I talked to my mom about what to put on her grave marker. Her grave marker. Her grave. How could my child's name ever be in the same sentence as the word "grave"?

The whole thing makes me cry to God, why? Why God? Why my child? I will never understand.

I am thankful for so many things. Because I know now, I feel it keenly, how much I could lose at any given moment. I thank God for my life, my husband, my family, my talents.

But I am also angry about so many things. For example, I pray to God several times a day right now to please give me the ability again to get pregnant. Three months after my daughter died, I want desperately to be pregnant again. Why should I even have to think about this? I should have a beautiful three month old little girl, who has chubby little arms and legs, and smiles and coos at me. Instead I pray to God to let me have that since it didn't really work out the first time.

Bleh. I need to just go to bed. I'm exhausted and so so over this right now.


  1. Okay, I have to admit...I don't know how you didn't punch that jerk right in the face! I don't know that I would have been able to hold back! What a turd!!!!!!!!!!!!!! As if to imply that if we'd had faith, our lives would just have been pretty and perfect, with our little girls. RIGHT.....Has he ever heard of Job!?

    I am so sorry that you're hurting so badly. I wish I could say something to help, but all of my words would fall short. I am sending big prayers for you and warm hugs too. I know you don't feel like it most of the time, but you're doing great. You're strong.

    God, I pray for my friend, Katie. Please touch her with your perfect peace, give her your divine comfort. Please bless her and her family, cover them with your perfect love. Amen.

  2. That angers me, too. I dislike it when people use scripture as evidence of their perfect lives.

    And from your friend above, the Job comment. That's always the first thing people turn to in times of struggle-- look at how Job handled his entire life being shifted. I often think... yeah, Job's life essentially went from perfect to devastating, much like ours. His children, dead.

    But then God gave him new children as the story goes and all was well again?

    Hardly. It was hardly well because there had to be much of him that still pained what he lost and the lives he loved so much in his family before the tragedy.

    It's our right to want these things. And God wants these things for us, I'm certain. I prayed today about this. About how I've been distant and just confused about how to react and how I know that I am thankful for my husband and family and all that I have, but that beyond that, it's hard to pick out the little things i should be thankful for. It's hard to pray about them. I also told God that although I know we lost Andrew and we're sad, that we'd desperately like more children.

    I just don't know what to pray beyond that.

    That comment from that man is just so infuriating on so many levels-- you touched on them all and I'm glad you did. Hopefully we're always conscious of the ways we use scripture, too.