Comforting Others With the Comfort We Have Received
(2 Corinthians 1:3-4)
(2 Corinthians 1:3-4)
Please read Kelly's post this week - it covers a lot! Maybe it will help you or someone you know that is grieving.
Grief (as defined by dictionary.com)
–noun
1.keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret.
2.a cause or occasion of keen distress or sorrow.—Idioms
3.come to grief, to suffer disappointment, misfortune, or other trouble; fail
Did you notice that fail was used to define grief? Amazing - that is one of the first things I think of when I think about our loss of Hudson. That I failed; that I did something wrong; that it is my fault. Women give birth everyday - it's supposed to come natural. Mine surely didn't. What's natural about a 20-something year old healthy and active woman having her child die for no apparent reason?
1.keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret.
2.a cause or occasion of keen distress or sorrow.—Idioms
3.come to grief, to suffer disappointment, misfortune, or other trouble; fail
Did you notice that fail was used to define grief? Amazing - that is one of the first things I think of when I think about our loss of Hudson. That I failed; that I did something wrong; that it is my fault. Women give birth everyday - it's supposed to come natural. Mine surely didn't. What's natural about a 20-something year old healthy and active woman having her child die for no apparent reason?
Grief is not something I had ever truly experienced - of course I have known people to die, but it is usually expected when it's your grandparents, not your child. The entire time John and I dated we had never experienced anyone in our families to die; in November we had to fly to Pittsburgh for his grandfather's funeral. Not two months later we were having to plan our baby's funeral. Does that make sense? No, it doesn't. I know I have mentioned this before, but the death of a child is the most difficult type of grief to experience - you lose more than just the physical being of that child. You lose the memories you had planned to make and the plans you had for your future children. I truly cannot say that to people enough because I want them to know that me being sad about Hudson is real and not just me saying, "Pity party, table for one please".
I know I wrote in an earlier post, months ago, that I refused to be sad in front of people. I hate to be seen without a smile on my face. The first week I went back to work I hated for people to hug me and try to console me because it made me cry and I didn't want to be seen as weak. I hated grieving and I was mad that I had to be sad - mad that this happened to me. Was I mad at God? No - I was mad at myself knowing that I had somehow caused this to happen. Some days I would sit at my desk and just break into tears - God bless those women in the mortgage department for letting me cry and crying with me those very hard days. They listened to me everyday when I was asking why, why, why. Not that my friends and a couple of other wonderful friends at the bank didn't listen and let me cry - they were just around me constantly.
After Hudson's death I needed to throw myself into something - a project to keep my mind occupied. Nothing worked; I lost my organizational skills and memory. I literally couldn't function and hold it together - behind closed doors. On the outside I had it together, knowing that I had to - that others were watching and I wanted so badly to set a good example; a Godly example. I knew that God had a reason for why this was happening to me and I knew that I had to have faith to believe that He was not going to let me fall.
Thinking on in those earlier months - it's not just grieving because you lost a loved one, it's also grieving because there is a feeling of something that never existed to anyone else. It's as if I am grieving the lose of my imaginary friend. No one but John and I have the memories of Hudson and they never will. When Hudson is not acknowledged as a grandchild or when someone does not acknowledge that John and I are a mom and dad it stings and it hurts. It actually just happened this weekend and I just sat there - frozen. My eyes were stinging and my face was about to explode - Hudson was real and maybe John and I are the only ones to truly grieve him; where am I going with this - no clue....I just want everyone to know that Hudson counted in my life and I will always tell people that I have a son named Hudson. I know that people try to do the right things and say things to not make me sad, but it makes me sad when he is rejected.
I remember not sleeping well some nights and I started taking some herbal sleeping pills, but I soon stopped taking those because I did not want to rely on anything to help me function. I wanted to grow from my grief and I wanted to learn from these new feelings I was experiencing. During the past few months I know I have changed and it is all from the impact Hudson has had on my life. The grief I carry with me will always be here, just like a little piece of Hudson's DNA (thanks Danielle for that wonderful post) will always be in me. Six months ago my world was turned upside down, but how far I have come today is truly amazing. If I covered the topic at this point I have no idea, but it felt good to post what I wrote. My rambling doesn't even make sense to me.
6 comments:
It does hurt when you feel that your child who cannot speak for themselves are bring rejected and forgotten at times. I get to feeling like, "How can they be laughing?! I just lost my BABY GIRL!!" Then I remember that I carried on just fine when it was the next person and not me. I sure enjoyed reading your post. Thank you for sharing
Your rambling makes perfect sense to me. I want to hold it together and say the right things, but it's not so easy when you're carrying this around. Thanks for being so honest about these feelings.
It surely is the most difficult type of grief. All those hopes and dreams dashed in a blink of an eye. You have to grieve those too.
It made sense to me! Reading all of the posts this week brings back some of my own feelings that I had overlooked in my post. The grieving really is just too much to cover in one post. We'll be talking about different parts of the process for awhile. Reading of the failure feelings you mentioned really rang true for me too. In those early months, I struggled with those feelings too. I will share more about that later. But, it was very difficult. Thank you for joining us...and for sharing so beautifully this week. You weren't rambly at all!
Love and prayers...
You make perfect sense to me! Your unbroken chain of thought resonated with me on every point. I used to stay quiet when someone would say something like "when you have a kid..." or "since you're not a mother yet..." because I was trying to shield them from the awkwardness or pain, but now I am starting to defend both Raelyn and myself by reminding people that she was real and she was here.
Thanks for your ramblings! :-)
Dana
You make sense to all of us. That's what is so nice about this special walk that we're doing together. I also love knowing that our kids left their DNA in us forever!
Much Love,
Jenny
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