Monday, April 18, 2011
The Reality of it All
Holy Week has started off a little rough. Not "Mardi Gras" rough, but rough. We had labwork for Miracle Baby early this morning, ran out to the new-to-us-house to meet a masonry guy, grabbed fast food for lunch, had quick naps, ran to the other town across the bridge to pick out a gas fireplace insert, picked up pizza for dinner, and headed to the Newman Center to pray the Stations of the Cross and have Adoration. Here's the thing. Regardless of how amazed I am that she's here, having a new baby at home is still hard. I'm not sure what I thought was going to happen when we brought her home, but the reality is...this is real life. My real life consists of 2 year-olds who demand things, 5-year-olds who whine if her clothes don't fit just right, 7-year-olds who get lost in the craziness of it all (so sorry, sweet Emma) and 9-year-olds who question, challenge, and have an opinion about everything. I thought, although I knew different deep down, that bringing *this* baby home was going to be different. *This* baby should make us all speak to each other with loving kindness. *This* baby should help us to stop and realize that the frustrations of the day are small. *This* baby was going to bring to her momma an abundance of patience so that no one would hear a raised voice again, a sharp word again, see an upset and angry look again. But, the reality of it all? Hasn't *she* done enough? *She* brought us hope, deepened our faith, brought us closer to each other and to God, helped us realize how precious every single gift is, every single day is. *She* survived. *She* lived. My precious girl has changed me in more ways than I thought possible, but I'm still not perfect. Not only am not perfect, but I'm still very much in the healing process, both physically and emotionally. I never intended this blog to be a place where I talk about my perfect life with my perfect husband, perfect children, and unfaltering faith. We are very much at a hard place these days. We re-learning how to be a family again after a life-altering trial. And that, well, that is the reality of it all.
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3 comments:
Reality stinks sometimes. Even when it feels like we should be grateful we still get mad. It really is ok.
Not only did you experience an amazing miracle, your family also experienced a huge loss. You will grieve that loss in your own way and in your own time and I pray that you are surrounded with people who understand that fact. Just because Felicity didn't die doesn't mean you don't get to grieve.
Holy week is especially challenging when you have seen death in the face of your own child, like you did. The year our daughter died I tried to pretend Holy Week wasn't actually happening (I failed miserably in that attempt, by the way so I highly recommend facing it head on), but I will tell you that Kenna helped me to feel so much closer to Mary. She understands, she's been there too.
Anyways- seeing as I am a virtual stranger to you, these words may not bring you much comfort, but know that there are people who are still praying for you and the time that it will take to pass through this road of grief, understanding, & acceptance.
I love reading your entries and following your caring bridge
Website. ( know itnis no longer updated but read it every day) You are so real and I love that. You dont know me. I am matthew Soetaert's sister Stacey. I went to school with Michelle and Brett. Thank you for sharing your journey with us and your struggles. You are all prayed for! How is she nursing? Love, stacey
I feel sorry for people who do try to make everything seem perfect and happy all the time. That's not real. It was that misconception that got me so screwed up. I thought I had to be perfect because everyone else seemed to be. I believed that God had just messed up when he made me and that was why I alone struggled. I'm so thankful now to know that is a lie and know that there are authentic believers in the world who are honest about their struggles. Isn't that what we're here for anyway? Authentic community? Thanks for being real.
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