Learning to Grieve

(picture taken from Associated Press)

I'll never forget moments living overseas where I've experienced other cultures grieving the loss of loved ones. During one stint in South Africa, I lost my Grandfather to a quick battle with cancer. It was devastating, but he had lived a long life and had lost his wife only months before to the same deadly disease...so if I can even assume such a thing, I think he was ready. No matter the timing of death, it is always tragic and a loss to those left behind. My dear friend from Kenya (Chep) wrapped her arms around me after finding out the news of my Grandfather and she began to weep with me. Chep was so concerned that I wasn't taking the time I needed to mourn and grieve the loss. In her tribe in Kenya, families from miles away tear their clothes and walk to the home of the mourning family with gifts of food and drink. People will literally stop everything in order to join this mourning feast. They will eat and cry and sleep and eat and cry some more...this can last up to a month before they assume "living" again.

As Westerners, I feel like we often dust mourning under the rug because of its inconvenience and discomfort to our daily lives. It's not always convenient to not go to work...and half the time we don't have the luxury of stopping work anyway. We also just don't know how to mourn. I personally never experienced death until I was 24 years old and lost my grandparents. I didn't know what to do, or what was appropriate.

All this to say...losing Sarah has been an extreme learning curve!!

It's been 10 months since I gave birth to Sarah. I've definitely struggled with my grieving "time line", not knowing how long it will or should last. Lately, I feel as if I can go days and days without feeling a hint of the deep sadness that came with her death. However, the grieving has definitely come in waves. It's felt a bit like a roller coaster, with each drop into sadness being a bit easier to handle. This last week I experienced another wave of grieving that felt different from the rest. I was at church and was actually having a really good day. The last 15 minutes of the service the kids came flooding back into the sanctuary after kids church and I suddenly found myself surrounded by little girls. It wasn't just one or two, but literally about 8 beautiful little girls ranging in age from 4 months to 4 years. Something in me broke and the tears came like a flood...I was missing my little girl. The girl I never had the chance to wrap in pink or dress with cute bows in her hair. I felt a sudden jealousy (I think in a healthy way), wishing that things had turned out differently and that one of those little girls was mine. I've learned that "wishing" doesn't lead to much change...so it quickly passed, but the sadness stayed with me for about a week. I'm not kidding - driving down the street and seeing little girls walking on the sidewalk would send me into a river of tears right behind the steering wheel.

It's okay. I know that. I think I just feel the pressure of our Western world often telling me to "get over it" and "move on". I can honestly say, I know I'll miss my little girl until the day I myself die. It's only natural. And I think its healthy...not to sit in the sadness and pout in the "should haves" and "I deserves"....but to allow the waves to come naturally, without a fight. I've found that by riding these waves, each new wave is a bit easier to cope with. I'm thankful for that.

Today is our 20 week ultra sound with Dr. Soffici. The day has finally come. Thanks for all your prayers and support...I'll post soon to let you know how it goes. Thankfully, my heart is at peace :)