soooo tired

I am absolutely exhausted. I've been trying to get out of bed for the last hour, but everything within me says to stay put. I'm writing this on the laptop lying down. I'm gonna listen to my body and take it easy today. If I'm not coming down with something perhaps it's a combination of being both emotionally tired and physically tired.

King and I went to another session at the perinatal bereavement group last night. That was helpful to be able to listen to people and weep and rejoice with each other. At our first meeting we were told that the group would start to feel like family because there is such a strong bond that connects us. This is becoming more true as we continue to go.

Also, for the past two weeks I've been trying to get back in shape and start to lose weight, so I've been going to the gym and also going running/walking with the hubby. Physically, getting my energy out just feels right and it's great when the endorphins kick in. I think it's helping me not feel like I'm going crazy because of the roller coaster of grief I'm on. I'm doing this also because I'd like to get pregnant in a few months and want to be as healthy as I can.

I don't wanna push it, but if I'm drained for the reasons above (and not getting sick) then it's worth it. Alright, time to rest again. Good night.

i carry your heart with me

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

ee cummings

Malaya, Mommy and Daddy carry your heart in ours. We love you.

Losing a child

When you lose a parent, you lose your past.
When you lose a spouse, you lose your present...
But when you lose a child, you lose your future.

-Author Unknown

A wife who loses a husband is called a widow,
A husband who loses a wife is called a widower.
A child who loses his parents is called an orphan,
Yet there is no word for a parent who loses a child,
That’s how awful the loss is.
-Author Unknown

Out of nowhere-tears

A friend of mine sent me this song via Facebook. It brought me MUCH comfort.


I just finished a time of bawling a few minutes ago and it was right after someone sent me a text message that simply said that she is praying for me.

The first thing I thought while I was crying was, 'Is it because I'm sad that she has to be praying for me in this way? or Am I crying because I haven't been crying too hard lately and it's a buildup of emotion?'

Who can really know why?
I let those thoughts go as they turned to asking my baby to come back. I know in my head that she's not and that she can't, but somehow it just feels so right to say those words out loud.

This whole timing of when I'm going to cry is a mystery to me. That bout of tears was definitely unexpected. It's strange because sometimes the times I think I should be crying (like when I'm looking at her pictures) I don't always cry. Sometimes, I cry just from one thought of my baby. I'm going to give up trying to over-analyze the exact reasons for me crying. If I feel like it, I'm not going to hold it in. And I need not be ashamed of my tears.

One thing that helped me last week was realizing the truth of this verse - Psalm 56:8

You have taken account of my wanderings;
Put my tears into Your bottle;
Are they not in Your book?

I somehow misconstrued this verse to think that the writer says, "put my tears in my bottle". I would tell people that since I'm just naturally a crier that my bottle is SO big. What a comfort to know that I won't have anything to with my tears after I cry them...that God is so wonderful that HE takes care of all that.

The dress she'll never wear

I went to Target for the first time the other day and I was looking for something to wear because I'm in between sizes. The maternity clothes are a bit loose and the pre-maternity clothes are still too tight. As I was looking around I ended up walking through the maternity section. I stopped and asked myself, 'Am I sad?' and 'Am I ready to be here?'. I walked through it and did it. I wasn't as sad as I thought I would be.

I asked myself the same questions because I then found myself walking toward the baby section to get to another part of the store. 'Should I take the long way and walk around?'

I weighed it out in my head and thought, 'When am I ever going to be totally ready? I can do this. Help me, God.'

I thought of how at the GriefShare support group (yes, we're going to two support groups) they said that at some point we would have to start taking risks...steps of faith even in spite of the fear of pain. They talked about experiencing "firsts" where we would have our first time doing things. Like the first night alone without Malaya...that was painful. In time, there would be a type of layering as we do this activity over and over. They weren't saying it wasn't going to be difficult at times, it just wouldn't be the first time of going through it.

It has been 28 nights of sleeping without her since we came home from the hospital. The first few days I would cry myself to sleep. Now, sometimes I still cry, but it's not like the first night without her.

This would be the first time I would go through the baby section of a store without her in my tummy. Before, I would meticulously look through everything making mental notes of what I wanted to register for. That day, though, I just kept pushing my cart slowly through, longingly looking at the car seats from afar and passing by the little outfits knowing that she will never get to wear anything there. I almost got through the whole section until I came across this pretty dress:
It was the same type of material as the outfit that King picked out for Malaya that we put on her at the hospital. This one was cute and summery and the only one that caught my eye. I stood there for a few seconds touching the dress, thinking of my daughter and what she would look like with it on. I thought this would have been so cute on her for the summer, but felt a sadness because she will never get a chance to wear it. I wonder what she is wearing in Heaven...

Part of me wanted to buy the dress...for her...and then I thought, 'What am I going to do with it when I get home?' and then 'Maybe I'll have another daughter in the future and maybe she could wear this.' I decided against buying it. There was a heaviness in my chest as I let go of the dress and walked on to get my face wash.

So, anyway, I made it through. Then I went home and cried. I think this was a good day of grief.