Fell On Black Days

Warning: This is probably not going to be a pleasant or uplifting post.

Okay, so what do you do when you’ve tried your hardest, and things still don’t go right? I’m not speaking specifically to our experience with Caroline, even though I did try my hardest to bring a happy and healthy baby into the world. I’m talking about things like your job, some relationships, tests, goals, hopes, etc. I’m having a day where I just don’t feel good. I don’t really know how else to say it…I am not in a good place.

I’m not a person who deals with failure very well. I’ve tried to set fairly high standards for myself all through my life. And I’ve managed to come pretty close to meeting those standards at many points. I’ve fallen on my face more than a few times too. Today, I feel kind of like I’ve fallen on my face again. Since everything happened with Caroline, I just can’t quite get back into the swing. My mind doesn’t stay focused on things, my skin, which used to be fairly thick, is pretty much transparent. I’m vulnerable. I’m scared. And I feel like a big fat failure.

From the day that I found out that I was pregnant with Caroline, I knew that I had to step up my game. I knew that I had to work hard, love hard, and play hard. I was having a baby. I was going to be a mommy. I had to be someone worth being proud of. I wanted her to be proud of her mommy. I wanted Arthur to be proud of his wife and the mother of his little girl. I was prepared to do that. But the ground fell out from under me. Now I feel like I’m starting from almost nothing.

Part of what is bothering me is probably not really worth getting bent out of shape over, but I tried my hardest, and it didn’t work. What’s bothering me today is my professional life, in addition to the regular stresses of life. I tried hard. My hardest. And still, it didn’t work out. I got some feedback today that wasn’t necessarily horrible, but it certainly wasn’t good. And I probably shouldn’t have let it hurt my feelings, but my feelings are just so raw, so exposed. I’m just not sure that I can withstand the corporate jungle and getting ripped to shreds, not anymore.

I want to sleep. I want to cry. I don’t want to face it again tomorrow. I know I have to though, and that is really tough too. Today is a day that makes me just want to go to bed and cover up my head.

Three Months

Three months have passed since I said goodbye to the little girl that stole my heart. Three months have passed since I got to touch her soft cheeks. Three months have passed since I got to hold her in my arms. Three months have passed and I don’t miss her any less. Three months have passed and I ache for her every second of every day. Caroline, your Mommy loves you so much (your Daddy does too!), I wish so badly that you were here with us.

So much has happened in these last few months. It seems like a lifetime has passed. It seems like years have gone by since I felt her move and kick and torture my ribs (which I miss too). We’ve gone from the hottest summer on record, to missing work for snow days. I’ve gone from being afraid to leave my house, to going back to some semblance of “normal.” I guess I don’t really know what my expectations are, but I was hoping for something a little more normal than I am. Maybe I’m just rushing it. Maybe I’ve just set my sights too high. Either way, I still feel pretty knocked down sometimes. Sometimes the waves of sorrow attack me when I least expect it. Sometimes it’s so heavy I still don’t think I can hold it up. Then still other times, I feel like things are going to be okay…I have a very welcomed peaceful feeling. I can’t help but think (that’s really a misstatement, I KNOW) that this is my Lord and Savior taking care of me. I feel his arms wrap around me, I feel his love for me. And with that, I am able to breathe again. A verse that has felt so real to me is Psalm 34:18 - The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. WOW…THAT’S ME!!!!! I have always really enjoyed when the Bible feels like it is written for me personally. This verse could have said, “Nicole, I am here with you, I understand your broken heart, I feel it too, and I am rescuing you from the pain.” It offers me so much comfort to know that He truly is with me in my grief, and He is going to save me from it.

To anyone reading this who is facing something difficult, the loss of a child or parent or friend or relative, dealing with financial issues in the troubled economy, facing divorce, you name it; it is my prayer that you feel God close to you and know that He WILL save you.

I have read several books and blogs (pamphlets, fliers, scraps of paper – anything I could get my hands on) since losing sweet baby Caroline. Before losing her, I didn’t really know how to grieve. It isn’t that I had never lost anyone; it’s just that I truly didn’t know how to do it. I was able to kind of skim the outsides; I didn’t have to dive in. I have also been blessed to be surrounded by some amazing people to help me through.

I was speaking to a friend the other day about grief, and she gave me a really good analogy. She said that grief is like a really scary forest that pops up in your life’s path. You can’t go around it. You can’t even see around it. But it’s just so scary, you can’t imagine going through it either. But you have to…so you do, and it’s awful, but there’s peace on the other side. I’m just trudging through this forest…but I know that there is something so wonderful on the other side.

The Lunch of Many Emotions

Well, happy Friday, World. I hope that everyone has had a good week. Around here, it’s been a snowy/icy one. It’s produced a couple of snow days and some fun pictures. But I’m kind of over being SUPER cold! I might just be looking for something to complain about though. You might just have to overlook me!

I’m coming to you right now from a tough day. I don’t really know what makes one day harder than another, but sure enough, they are each different. I’ve had some waves of emotion come over me this week that I wasn’t expecting. You’d think that I’d pretty much be ready for anything at this point…grieving shouldn’t surprise me anymore. Yet, as I sat in the crowded restaurant at lunch today, with tears streaming down my face; I was surprised.

Sometimes, seeing children and babies is nice for me, sometimes it feels like someone just kicked me in the chest. It actually varies from minute to minute, child to child, mother to mother. Arthur and I were sitting in a little restaurant having our lunch, and a lady came in pushing a Chicco stroller (the same green stroller that Arthur and I shopped for, test drove, and thought about buying just a few months ago) with a little bundled up baby with a pink hat. I couldn’t see her face. I didn’t need to. I saw that green stroller, that pink hat, that smiling mom, that bulging diaper bag. And, I fell apart. Part of me wanted to be embarrassed. Part of me was defiant. I almost wanted people to see me and ask what was wrong. At least that way I could share my story. I could share that I also have a daughter. She would have been strolled around by me with a big smile on my face, but she didn’t get to stay. I have a daughter. I have a daughter who isn’t here. I have a daughter, and that’s who I miss. That is why I’m crying.

I think the Happy-Smiling-Mommy saw me. She looked at me, but tried not to stare. I’m sure she wondered what was wrong with me. I’m sure she wanted to protect her baby from the weirdo lady crying at her table a few feet away. I don’t know if I blame her. I’m pretty certain that I would be the very protective Mama Bear if Ms. Caroline was with me.

I did manage to pull myself together and finish my lunch. Thankfully, Arthur was there to share silly stories with me until I laughed. (Love that boy!) Then we went and bought a cookie for me and a chai latte for him. We decided to walk around the square and just enjoy the sunshine. We saw that a crowd was kind of forming at one end of the square…as we got closer, we saw why: 2 girls in bikinis and high heels. Yes, bikinis and it’s not even 30 degrees out there. Apparently, they were giving out free hot meals…vegan chili. But really, just blegh. They just kind of grossed me out. I think it was the gawkers that was really bothering me. That’s just tacky. And also, I feel sorry for those girls. I’m angry with whoever is putting them out there, feel sorry for them, and I’m disgusted with the staring pervs. Just an all around aggravating situation for me.

Like I said, I think I might just be in a complaining mood. Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. Either way, I am missing my girl. I’m missing the thought of her, the promise of her. I miss my Caroline.

When My World is Shaking

Heaven stands. When my heart is breaking, I never leave Your hands. This is part of a song that is really speaking to my soul today. It’s called Your Hands by JJ Heller. I’m going to post the lyrics to share with you. I highly suggest you listening to some of her songs.

I have unanswered prayers
I have trouble I wish wasn't there
And I have asked a thousand ways
That You would take my pain away
That You would take my pain away

I am trying to understand
How to walk this weary land
Make straight the paths that crooked lie
Oh Lord, before these feet of mine
Oh Lord, before these feet of mine

When my world is shaking
Heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave Your hands

When You walked upon the Earth
You healed the broken, lost, and hurt
I know You hate to see me cry
One day You will set all things right
Yea, one day You will set all things right

When my world is shaking
Heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave Your hands

Your hands
Your hands that shape the world
Are holding me, they hold me still
Your hands that shape the world
Are holding me, they hold me still

When my world is shaking
Heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave You when...

When my world is shaking
Heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave...
I never leave Your hands

I believe that I can say with certainty that my world has never been shaken, and my heart never broken like it has been through this valley. I am so thankful that I have been able to feel my Lord and Savior in my life, before and during this. He has granted me peace. He has granted me happiness. He has granted me comfort. He has surrounded me with such amazing people. To each of you reading this, even those I haven’t met in person, thank you so much for coming into my life, being my friend, loving me through this hurt, praying for us, and offering encouragement and support. Honestly, this journey is taking all I can get from anyone who is willing to give anything. I know that I certainly don’t have the strength to climb this mountain on my own. But with God and all of you, I am making progress, I am gaining momentum, I am living. That dark night in October, I never thought I’d live again. The pain is still nauseating at times, but there are at least moments that I feel lightness, a sense of happiness, a joy. I was so blessed to be Caroline’s mommy. She changed my life forever. She helped me see what I needed to be, opened my eyes, opened my heart. She was an amazing little girl. I so very badly wish that she could have stayed.

Christmas has come and gone, New Years the same. If I’m honest, I couldn’t be happier that it’s behind me. It’s not that I didn’t want to celebrate Jesus’ birthday. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy seeing family. It’s not that I don’t like to give gifts to those that I love. It’s that my heart just wasn’t in it this time around. My smiles were probably only half smiles most of the time; my eyes were on the brink of tears. I didn’t want to be the “super-duper-sad-grieving-woman,” so I worked not to let that be the case. I wonder if everyone could tell that my heart wasn’t all in? I’m sure they could. And I hate that.

This entry has actually been in progress for 5 days. 5 long days that have honestly felt like a lifetime. I’ve been having a tough time finding the words to say. I feel so many things, so many things with such magnitude. It’s very hard for me to get it all out into words sometimes. There is an element of fear in getting it out in writing. The fear comes from being exposed. I’m scared to be “naked” to the world…but I feel lead to share my thoughts, feelings, lessons learned, etc. I want to share these things in hopes that they can help at least one single person. I don’t think that we’re allowed to go through experiences that change our lives and not be meant to use that to help others change their lives too.

Right now I’m feeling very delicate. My whole being feels raw. One harsh word can absolutely break my heart, whereas I used to have thicker skin. Now, I’m easily attacked, broken down, and hurt. Thankfully, most people have been so gentle with me. This has been so helpful. But I did have a rough day or two last week. Some people just don’t seem to understand, or maybe they just don’t care. And that is sad.

Also, I’m feeling a little paranoid. Before you call the nearest psych ward, let me explain. I wonder if people can tell that something is “wrong” with me. I wonder if people can tell that I’m broken. I sometimes feel like I have a neon sign over my head that says, “LOST A BABY!!!” I feel like something about me screams, “Hey, look at the scary grieving woman!” Of course, I know better than to believe that this is actually the case, but sometimes it sure does feel real.

On a positive note, I have had a few experiences over these last few weeks where I was able to speak freely and share about my sweet little girl. I am so thankful to be able to talk about her with others. I love being able to share about her with anyone who will listen. I’m always open for questions and conversations.

I hope everyone has a great week!