Grief

Many of you have probably already seen this picture...Isn't it amazing?! A lady in Australia writes names in the sand of babies who have gone to be with Jesus. It's breathtaking and what I think of when I dream of Graham being in paradise. I have wanted to go to Australia my entire life. Now, my dream is to stand on the beach at Mullaloo Point in Western Australia where my precious boy's name was written in the sand at sunset.

I have promised an update for quite some time and I apologize that I'm just now getting to it. I feel I have been open and honest with my emotions as ugly as they have been from the beginning almost 5 months ago, but I seem to be hitting a point where I'm not as comfortable sharing the nitty-gritty ugliness of my grief. Sometimes because I can't believe I'm still here...and to be quite honest, I rarely have words to express the thoughts and feelings that I still battle with daily...hourly at times. This post will probably jump all over the place as do my thoughts, but this is where I am.

The ache that is still so present in my longing for Graham still has no words. I feel as though a minute doesn't pass when I have not thought about him...most times still with sadness that he is not with us making sweet memories, wearing swim trunks, putting everything in his mouth, trying to crawl, helping celebrate holidays and family birthdays. But there are also times when I think of him and find myself smiling. I have such wonderful, precious memories with him in his 14 weeks of life. They say (and I believe) that losing someone you love is the greatest emotional wound possible. And that losing a child is the greatest of those wounds. Therefore, I try and remind myself that this terrible place that I'm at is "ok" and "normal" and again, that I won't be

here forever.

I still struggle with the death of my hopes and dreams that I had not only for Graham, but for our family...for James and Lauren. I don't want to accept that I will live with this gaping hole for the rest of my life. Not only was I forced to bury my precious little boy, but I buried bible songs I would have sung, little clothes, and his first day of school. Luke buried the baseball glove, playing catch and watching him grow to be a man. I've lost a great deal of my innocence about life. I miss when life seemed a little more black and white and not so gray. I miss when answers were simple. I miss when overwhelming to me used to be wondering when I was going to have a chance to take a shower and shave my legs (not really that petty, but I think you get it :) ) I miss the overall happiness and joy I used to feel about/toward life. I just miss the way things used to be...

I'm dealing with ugly, new emotions that arise from the depths of my being. My emotions are unpredictable and therefore often times embarrassing. I'm trying to move past my anger and bitterness knowing that I cannot continue to heal as long as they are this prevalent and yet it's so hard...it's brutal. Everything has two sides and it is a really tough balancing act. I want people to talk to me about the kids, me, life...anything other than my broken heart, but at the same time I want people to ask me how I'm doing with this whole grief thing, to talk with me about Graham, because I'm afraid he will be forgotten. And I'm not ok with that... I want to know that people are drudging through the mud with me, and not keeping a safe distance. I suppose I want fellow travelers on my road of misery. This probably sounds awful, but if you are walking with me or have experienced any grief, it probably needs no explanation. The best thing you could ever say to me is, "I feel your pain," or "This is awful," or just listen. I have all the head knowledge I feel like I could possibly have, but right now there is a big disconnect between what my head knows and what my heart feels and believes.

I try and brace myself for the "firsts" such as obvious milestones like holidays or monthly birthdays, but often times I am blindsided by other things that cause me to fall into a heap, usually figuratively, but sometimes in reality as well. Each date gives me a cause to grieve and a fresh awareness of our loss. We were driving to my nephew's birthday party over the weekend and I cried...a lot...because I will never have an 8th birthday party for Graham or buy him tee balls. He will never watch us make homemade popcorn or be the victim of James' brutal squirt gun target practice. My entire life has changed...and I don't like it one bit (the change). Although I believe daily we can make a choice to choose life, it's not easy. And some days and times are
much more difficult than others.

Right now I also feel as though I didn't/don't want to be a sweet sacrifice if it means I lost my Graham and am at risk of losing other people in my life. This isn't what I prayed for...at least I didn't think it was. If this is part of the deal then I want out. We dedicate our babies and pray for them. Why in all of God's love for me was saving my Graham outside His reach? I understand that our children are a gift from God, but to actually believe that to the extent where I must accept that His plans were different than ours and that Graham would be taken from this earth is simply mind boggling. I'm having a tough time letting go of the past.

God's timing seems wrong to me.

I'm learning that my emotions, even the intense ones, are horrible but won't kill me as I once thought. I'm learning that I can be vulnerable and real...and live to tell about it. Although I know I won't always be in this place, I'm here now...today...

I read this piece in a book and it summed up my emotions so well:

Real grief is not easily comforted. It comes like ocean waves rushing up the sand,

subsiding back, only to roll in again. These waves vary in size, frequency, and intensity. Some

are small, lapping up around the feet. Others are stronger; they foam the water around you and cause you to stagger. Then there are the overwhelming waves with an undertow that can turn your world upside down and drag you out into the deep waters.

For those of you who are reading this, please pray for us...all of us as we are
still looking face to face with our ugly reality each day. Pray for grace and peace, patience and understanding, hope and joy. I do believe God ordains all things for His glory and our good, and for the good of Graham too.

Thank you again for walking this journey with us.