Thoughts on Grief

My thoughts swirl today in my seventh week of pregnancy with our third child. Our second baby girl sleeps peacefully in her crib, and our first I still mourn every time my thoughts turn there. Each and every time I think of a child being harmed, or hear a story like the beautiful movie 'Miracles from Heaven' my thoughts turn to my Elisha gone so far from us before we could meet, hold, and love our precious child. Today I toured a Ronald McDonald House and volunteered a bit there. While I was happy to hear the help they provide to families, just the mention of children needing hospital care almost made me begin weeping. It's been two and a half years since I learned what it really means to grieve, and I thought by now I would have a sad memory to look back on, but surely I wouldn't still feel so torn, right? Then I read other stories online, and saw that people still have this fresh grief even after thirty or more years. It has dulled, I have many happy days between the sad.

I realize that emotions run higher with pregnancy, but that doesn't stop the emotions from coming. People ask me how my morning sickness is, they want to be friendly and sympathetic. When I tell them I have none, they tell me how lucky I am. They're right, I'm blessed, yet I only feel the same anxiety I felt with our daughter's pregnancy. I didn't feel pregnant with her either, yet here she is healthy and growing fast. So my grief is mixed with my anxiety, and my anxiety with my grief. I offer my anxiety to God, tell Him I trust Him. Yet I'm stuck with my strong selfish will, the will that wants to hold all my babies and never let them go. I've already had to let Elisha go, though I want my precious baby back with all my heart. One day I'll have to let my baby girl go as she grows up and begins her own life away from home. I'm so anxious for this baby, who could go away before I can meet it just as Elisha did.

I know that I should be glad of the happier place where Elisha is. I don't need to worry about the evils of the world and the suffering that comes in life ever reaching our first baby, and still I wish that God's plan had been different. Who am I to wish such a thing? Who am I to wish for my will over God's plan?

Grief is such a tricky thing. Do any two people in the world ever grieve in the same way? Can anyone understand another's grief, or are we all alone in this? The grief of a mother who has lost her child has a sound to me now. It's the sound I made when I learned of Elisha's leaving, the sound I still make now, though more often in my heart. I wonder if Mary made that sound, when they crucified her son. Did she when they gave her His body? How can we help each other, we who have lost our children? What can we do so we know we are not alone? If we share our stories we know that there isn't a time limit on healing. It's not a year, two years, or thirty. If we let people know, then our babies become known. There are so many lost children that have no one to celebrate their brief lives, because their stories were not shared. Why do mothers wait to tell of their pregnancies until the second trimester? Why do they wait to share their joy? Why is there such fear of people knowing of that tiny life they hold? It's time to talk about our babies who never got to breath the air. It's time to share the sad stories of those we never held. We need each other in this grief, and our silence keeps us apart.

I've learned the practical reality of living my life with this grief. I now cary pocket handkerchiefs, just like the sweet old ladies do. Because I never know which day the grief will poor out into the outside world, and it helps to be prepared. I've learned too that this grief makes me feel vulnerable, and forces me to rely on my Father's plan. I'm an independent person, always ready to run off like my little girl, headed right for the street and planning to take care of myself. But I know in my grief that I need my Father's comfort, His guidance, and I need to trust in His love for me and my children. I need to be a child like them, and for children it's ok to cry.

I Wanted to Save Babies

I wanted to save babies, when I first heard about the terror of the abortion industry and began joining pro-life causes. That was my focus. People are killing babies? Ok, we better save those babies. Slowly I started to realize that the mothers could use some help and prayers too, but I was really focused on the babies still. I realized that the people working in the abortion mills could use help and prayers too, but I sadly only gave them begrudging prayers. Then it hit me.

Babies have their lives taken from them through abortion, but the mothers risk loosing their souls for all of eternity. So do the abortion doctors and other workers, and fathers and family and other people who pressure the mother into making such a 'choice'. Though many mothers feel they have no choice, they may suffer so greatly after their abortion, in life or after life. Many people are uninformed of the devastation that advising someone to 'fix' their pregnancy 'problem' can cause, but there are also those people who know fully what their advice and pressure means and yet they continue. There are workers in abortion clinics who don't really know what goes on, but there are those who realize they are murdering for pay and yet they keep on.

While the victim of murder deserves our prayers, so much more prayer we must send up for the murderer. For the one who stood by and let it happen. For the one who paid the murderer to kill. For the one who saw it happen and said nothing. The victim is gone away from all suffering in life, and when the victim is an innocent baby we know they have gone to a better place than here. Left here on Earth are those who killed and were involved in the killing. The devil has his hands on the souls of these people, and so much more do they need our prayers and what help we can give. If they don't have a conversion of heart, they could spend eternity suffering for their 'choice'.

While I could never fully understand what brings a mother to such a position, I grieve at the hurt that must be felt by those women who understand the tragedy of their decision and mourn the baby they chose to kill. Such pain and loss I felt at the miscarriage of my first child must have been small compared to theirs. I only had the grief of a mother loosing her child. While that grief is not small, their grief is mixed with the terrifying knowledge that their 'choice' lead to their loss. They have the pain that no one else can ever feel, the pain of a mother knowing she has killed her own defenseless child. While I grieve for the pain they must feel, their understanding gives them the opportunity for reconciliation with God and the salvation of their souls, the mending of that holy relationship. I pray they take the forgiveness God offers them, the love and strength He gives that they surly need to carry on.

I still want to save babies. But I also want to save women. I want to save those women who have had abortions, to tell them I won't ever understand their hurt but there is hope for them, there is forgiveness. I want to save those women who have not had abortions, but are in difficult pregnancies and are scared and confused. Those women who feel they have no choice, no options. Those women who are about to be pushed into making the worst decision of their entire lives. I want to be there for them, however God sees fit for me to be there, be it physically or in prayer, be it a friendly smile or a life changing conversation. I also want to save abortionists. I want to reach their hearts somehow, help them see the blood that is on the money they love. I want to save fathers, who want only the convenience of sterile pleasure without the responsibility of children. I want to change our society, the way we think as a whole, so we can see what a treasure these little babies are, and what a dangerous thing it is to have their blood on our hands. Our women have been betrayed and lied to. Our society has been betrayed and lied to.

How do I make a change for the better? It will start with prayer.