Last night for some reason I felt so sad as I looked at pictures of the blessing dress that we bought for Janessa--it was so beautiful. My pregnancy with Janessa was not easy. The morning sickness lasted for 6 months and then it seemed like every time I went to the doctor there was another problem to deal with, infection detected on the ultrasound in one of her kidneys that cleared up, high blood pressure, gestational diabetes, etc., etc., I felt so discouraged during her pregnancy but that blessing dress brought me hope! I would go into my closet get it out and just hug it telling myself it was all going to be worth it once she was born and I got to put her in this dress. That dress kept me going day after day, month after month. Then the worst thing of all happened when they told me she had no heartbeat and had died. I went into shock--I really didn't know how to process what was happening. Had I been thinking straight I would have had someone bring that dress up so that I could put her in it, but, I didn't. I just felt horrified that this beautiful blessing dress would now become her burial dress. I had one last moment of hope knowing that I would be able to dress her in this dress and then hold her and rock her one last time before I put her in her coffin. I held onto that hope, but, in the end that moment was taken from me too when the mortuary called and said they were unable to embalm her and that her little body was in really bad shape and they did not feel it would be good for us to see her like that. So we dropped that dress off to the mortician and they were the ones who got to see her in that dress, they were the ones who got to rock her one last time and wrap her in a blanket and put her in the coffin. I wanted that moment so much!! I needed that moment to find closure, to find healing, to find some sort of peace.
It is hard to not feel anger at the unfairness of all of it, it's hard to not feel hopeless, it's hard to not have answers and to have to just be okay with having no answers for now. It's hard but not impossible. It's taking me 14 years to finally understand that scripture--his hand is stretched out still, really means. Jesus has been waiting for me to take his hand and let Him help me deal with all of this. I have been stubborn refusing to take His hand and trying to deal with all of this myself, which is impossible. I don't know how, but, I know that Jesus knows and understands fully what all this feels like and the comfort and peace that brings me to just have Him sit with me in this pain and guide me on ways to cope is indescribable. I still at times fall back on trying to cope myself, but, then I'm reminded once more that his hand is stretched out still no matter how long it takes for me to grasp His hand and never let go.
No comments:
Post a Comment