Being still in the midst of grief

Some days I see the world moving around me, all the hustle and bustle of the holidays, and I wonder how anyone could possibly be functioning when the sky is falling down. 

And then I realize that the sky isn’t falling on anyone else but me. And it isn’t the sky, but it’s grief and guilt and sadness and SATAN. 

I'm sure everyone has heard of "mom guilt". It's a topic that is so prevalent in our society today. Everyone is holding it together better than you, everyone is feeding their child something better than you, everyone has a cleaner house than you, everyone is disciplining better than you...it just goes on and on. As mothers (and fathers too, I'm sure) we are constantly doubting the parenting choices we are making. 

Unfortunately, losing a child doesn't stop the guilt. For me, it has only made it stronger. 

It was my body, after all. My body failed her. My body failed two other babies before Nolan, but we figured out why that happened and proved I could carry to term when Nolan was born. So Nora should have made it. I did everything I was supposed to; I took my meds, I did my shots, I ate the right things...

But did I? What about that morning I forgot my shot? What about that time I ate a sandwich, even though I asked them to heat it twice just to be sure. What about those months I spent on the bathroom floor every evening and missed some of my prenatal vitamins because I couldn’t swallow a sip of water without gagging? What about...what about...what about...

Satan. 

I know those things didn’t cause Nora’s life to be cut short. I KNOW them in my head. After all, it was a placental abruption that ultimately caused her to be born at 21 weeks, and eating a twice-heated sandwich can’t cause that. There isn’t really a reason why abruptions happen, unless there’s some kind of big trauma, like a horrific wreck. 

But what about all of those times I lifted Nolan? What about the times I overdid it, because I didn’t want to miss out? What about the lukewarm baths I took, the water not able to cover my swelling belly anyway but sitting up nearly straight so I could be sure she didn't come to any harm, maybe they were too hot? What about...what about...what about...

Satan. 

I know these thoughts and feelings of guilt are misplaced and misguided. I know that. I know that Nora's story was written long before I was even on this earth, and that nothing I did or didn't do would change the number of pages in her book. 

Nolan has recently become obsessed with Frozen. We watch it almost every day. There is a scene, where Anna's parents are trying to protect her and the wise council they seek tells them that it is a good thing it was her head that was hurt, because "the heart is not so easily changed." 

My head knows the guilt is Satan trying to break me. But my heart is not so easily convinced. I am sure it will take weeks, months, years until I am at a point where I can look at Nora's life and feel only gratefulness and not guilt. At least I hope to be at that point. 

Years ago, my husband and I bought a new house and also found out we were pregnant for the first time. We saw a room upstairs and knew this was the house for us and that our children would use that room as a nursery. Shortly after moving in, we went through our first miscarriage, and a few months later, went through a second. I was beginning to doubt whether we would ever have a child to fill that room. During my mourning, I painted. I had discovered the awesome invention of chalk paint, which allowed you to paint without sanding! Something just for my impatient self. I painted all sorts of things; a coffee table, end tables, canvases, nightstands, dressers and chests of drawers. One of the things I painted were these two windows to go in our dining room. They simply say "Be still and know." I didn't know at the time that I would need to see that reminder daily for the rest of my life. 

So that is where I am. When I feel the grief and guilt setting in, I remind myself to be still. I cannot fix this. But I can get through it. So today, one month after I gave my baby girl, my daughter, my Nora back to Jesus for Him to love until I get there, I am being still and praying to feel her presence. I was going to share her birth story, but her birth story ends in goodbye and I don't want to focus on the goodbye today. Instead, I am focusing on being still.