So...this is real. This is raw. This is emotion.
I'm not going to hide anything or put on rose colored glasses just because this is public. You know that, right? I'm normally a happy person...but you'd expect someone whose baby died three weeks ago to be sad, right?
Days are still hard. Very hard.
This sucks.
Everywhere I look I find more triggers that split open my heart again.
The worst is actually church. I look around and see all my friends who love and care about me. I remember all of the exchanges we had during the 9 long months in which I believed I was going to have a baby. I see their kids...babies...lots of babies this year. I remember how I thought that Elsa would be friends with their babies...and be in the same classes together.
Blogs are agonizing. So is Facebook. Yet, ironically they are also very comforting. Agonizing: seeing all of my friends updates about their babies. Their babies lived while my baby died. Why did mine die? Comforting: being able to reach out to and communicate with friends and family far and wide. They love me and care about me and are praying for me. I can feel the comfort of all the prayers.
School is starting Tuesday. I am terrified. All last year, I expected to start this school year with a new baby and now I'm not. I even bought the school supplies a month before I was due so that I wouldn't have to worry about it after the baby came. They're sitting in a closet waiting for me to label and put in Joshua's backpack. That will probably make me cry.
Every new experience is a trigger. As time goes on and less experiences are new, there are less triggers. Every trigger is important to my healing. I have to go through each trigger and release each emotion in order to heal. Emotion and crying and triggers heal. Pretending like I'm fine does NOT heal. Some days have more triggers than others.
Recall back to our trip to Alaska in
this blog entry, where I wrote about the labyrinth we visited in Juneau. As I wandered the path of the labyrinth, I meditated upon my upcoming labor and birth. I thought about how, like the labyrinth, one must go through labor and birth to get through it. No shortcuts. It's the very same with grief and healing. One must walk through the labyrinth of grief...all the way in and all the way out, before the healing is complete.
Each friend who supports me by listening, praying, sharing kind words/poems/stories/music, shedding tears with me, laughing with me, giving hugs, allowing me to grieve and to feel joy...is walking a part of that path with me, bringing comfort. Even if you are one of those friends or family members with a baby...you bring comfort. And I know that the Savior is waiting nearby to walk the path with me and perhaps for me, when times are toughest.
I found this little one taking a Sunday afternoon snooze:
So precious!
Then this bigger little one wanted a picture of him napping too:
I really love and cherish these little guys.
Another attempt at summer fun:
What a very pretty little park and hiking area. As my blog theme would imply, I take great comfort in the woods. This was a very perfect day in the woods: quiet, sunny, warm, a hint of coolness in the breeze, with room to think about things that have been and things to come.
And I must remark that my little Toby has been a great comfort to me during this time. He is always trying to help me and make me laugh. He was and is very excited to be a big brother and he is such a kind and a loving child. I hope that someday soon I will be able to play lightheartedly with him again.
This is an effort to try to make the rest of the summer fun for the boys:
Bye Mom
9/06/2009
| Author:
jefferies
Thanks for coming to help with the boys. They miss you.
Once upon a time...before my life was completely changed:
these two kids took swimming lessons, learned a lot, had a lot of fun! (I totally LOVE these kids!)
I sat in the bleachers, watching them...and hoping that I wouldn't have the baby before the two week session was over. (I had the baby 3 days after it ended).
I painted the nursery this lovely shade of green and decorated with a botanical-woodsy theme.
(cute, huh?)
And now we've turned her little crib into a shrine. It seemed appropriate to me to put her picture in the crib. It almost looks like she belongs there.
One more explanation on "The Wood Between the World": I first got the idea for this theme when we were driving back to Oregon after the funeral and burial. I was thinking about what I was going to do with the stuff in the nursery, when the idea of "The Wood" brought me peace and comfort. I am going to turn her room into "The Wood Between the Worlds", until the room is needed again.
These pictures were taken by my friend Tara right after Elsa was born:
Here are some more pictures taken by Tara the next morning:
The day after Elsa was born was the hardest day of my life. We had to take her sweet body to the Mortuary and leave her with a complete stranger by 4:00 pm. Before that I spent the whole day sitting on the couch holding her. It felt like she was alive and just sleeping in my lap all day.
Tara helped us take molds of her hand and foot. It is these pictures and molds that will help us remember that all of this really happened.
We had a little birthday party for Elsa the next day. We still wanted to celebrate her life and that she is a part of our family forever. We wanted to make that point to the little boys. They got some special gifts to help them remember Elsa.
After the funeral, Brent and I spent about an hour alone with Elsa...we took every picture we could possibly imagine from every angle. I held her body one last time.
We said our last goodbyes...
The next morning we met with only a very few people at Elsa's grave for the dedication. Brent did a wonderful job dedicating her grave. I know that her body will be safe there until she is resurrected.
The boys smelling Elsa's flowers
contemplating in Elsa's sacred burial ground
We went to lunch downtown in Salt Lake City. Afterward we took a picture of our family in front of the building where Brent and I were married 10 years ago. In addition to being married we were also sealed together forever to all of our future children. This is why we will get Elsa back, if we live the way we're supposed to. This is the hope that is holding us together. It still doesn't soothe the ache of having her gone right now.
We went back and saw her grave before heading back to Oregon. We left her body in Utah, but her spirit remains here with us in Oregon...in the home where she was born. We will always have that closeness to her.
And finally, the display from the open house we had in Oregon:
