The Calm before The Storm
Typically, when a crisis strikes, I am able to stay calm, help to find a solution, ensure that everyone is ok and help everyone make it through, make sure that the mess following is straightened out, and then I go home. Our recent loss was similar.
After the initial shock and disbelief, I was angry and I ached, but I was able to quickly put that aside and figure out what happens next. I was strong through the beginnings of the drama, even through the hospital trip for the D&C. When we came home, though I choked back tears, I was able to make the neccessary phone calls to friends and family and post the update of our situation. I was able to be strong for the people around me who also grieved with us, and especially to be strong for James. I stayed on top of checking my recovery, keeping in touch with our doctor, making decisions on the next step. I stepped back, and was thrilled at how well I was handling everything.
The part that I forgot about my crisis-handling strategy, is the part where I figure everything out, go home happily, and realize what just happened – and have to cope alone. Everyone thought I was being so strong, and I guess I was, but I’d convinced many people, including myself, that I wasn’t going to grieve for long, that I understood and accepted our loss.
I understand, and accept, that God is in control. That he gives and takes away and that only he can make the call on who lives and who doesn’t. We’d been so happy with our “miracle” in the beginning of the pregnancy, that while we never forgot that the pregnancy is never a guarantee, we never expected that we’d deal with that loss twice in one pregnancy. When I think that I might have a little girl in heaven who will never have to think about or experience anything like this, I am comforted. However, when I am out to eat with my husband, and trying to understand the new emotions I am dealing with, seeing one pregnant woman pass the window and then another, and then another (as is the case with Alaskan winters…) feels like someone continuously slaps my face. And now I have to figure out how to grieve and keep going.
I am very happy to have James by my side. He is strong enough for me to lean on and to not let me manipulate him (I can be pushy sometimes), but he is sweet enough to comfort me and understand my confusion. We are such a perfect match for each other. It isn’t always easy, but it’s always worth it.
