Waves

August 02, 2020

Waves

That's the best word I can use to describe the past few weeks since losing our baby.

Some days are ok - I get through the day with holding back tears. Others, I cry myself to sleep at night.

It's the smallest thoughts or sights that set off emotions. When I observe how big Levi is getting, I get so sad. Our baby will never get as big as Levi - and when/if we have another, he's going to look even MORE gigantic.

When we pray at night, I got so sad in the beginning when Mark would just give thanks for Levi. Now, he makes sure to give thanks for both of our children.

I put on a pair of leggings that fit just fine, followed by a pair of shorts. My heart broke because all I wanted was to be too big for them.

I lay down and my belly is flat - no more little bump.

My body is going through small postpartum things that I experienced with Levi. I've had so much hair loss in the past week - another reminder of what I should have experienced in 2021.

I went to go to the gym at work and realized I only had my maternity pants in there.

I've already been asked by different people how many kids we have, and it's so hard to phrase a response. We have two and I want to acknowledge that - acknowledge our baby's life. Yet don't want to make the other person feel weird if I say two, but one is in heaven with Jesus.

We decided to name our baby Frankie. I couldn't fathom not giving our child a name, so we researched some gender neutral ones. Frankie was my Gran's name as well. But the main reason we chose this name was because of the meaning. Frankie means 'Free.' I know that's exactly what he/she is.

Mark and I finally looked at Frankie's ultrasound pictures and just wept together on the couch. We knew Frankie was our baby, but looking at the pictures just solidified the life that I carried.

The next day, I started weeping as I realized the three ultrasound pictures are the only ones we will ever have of Frankie. Yet my phone literally has thousands of Levi.How does a mother's heart handle that bitter and sweet truth?

The thought of trying again brings so many emotions to mind. Obviously fear of losing another. But also just being so scared to lose the life and importance that Frankie holds. When/If we have another, will it somehow dishonor Frankie? Will he/she look down and feel like we've moved on or forgot?

I know this isn't true - Frankie's in heaven and will never know hurt or pain. Yet as a momma, I do.

Then I think of all the children right now who are abused, trafficked, etc. I get angry at God because Frankie would have been so loved. We would have protected him/her, provided for him/her, and just cherished that little baby. Why couldn't God save the children who are being raped and abused so many times a day?

Where is God in the midst of all of this?

I ask that question many times a day now. I literally have to pray every morning for some joy...some hope...some peace to fill my troubled heart.

I was listening to a podcast called Held when I had some alone time one evening. It was the first time I felt like someone understood this pain. The podcast is produced by a woman who had a miscarriage, and the focus on episodes is all about pregnancy loss. I heard the pain that still lived in these women's lives many, many years later.

It's weird to say, but that gave me so much relief. I don't have to get over the loss of my baby. I don't have to ever forget Frankie. I don't have to feel like there isn't a huge whole in my heart, and in our family.

Grief is a journey. No matter what kind we experience. It opens our eyes and hearts to so much. It makes us ask questions. It gives space to feel emotions we may have pushed aside for too long. It forces us to be weak - to ask for help - to accept help.

So here I sit. Counting the weeks since I learnt my baby passed, instead of counting down the weeks until he/she would be in my arms.

The weight of that reality hits me hard. I think it always will.

Yet I keep looking to Jesus. Whether it's in a song, or a quick prayer, or trusting that the Spirit and Jesus are praying on my behalf when I just don't have the words (which is 99% of the time right now).

I don't know what the future holds. Heck, this has shown me that I don't know what a single moment holds in life. One day I can get by, the next second I'm holding back tears at the dinner table or while dancing in the living room with Levi or putting on a pair of pants that I wish didn't fit.