Sunday, July 08, 2007

When I first started a blog, one of the things I said I'd never do was create more space where I didn't say what was really on my mind. I am susceptible to the disease of trying to please people, or at least, trying to say what I think I'm supposed to. I'm not going to do that here - at least, that's what I said two years ago.

So this is me, saying more than I normally would publicly, and more than likely wishing later I could take it back.

This past week was the anniversary of the first time I found out I was pregnant (a pregnancy that resulted in miscarriage, and was pretty traumatic for me, for those who don't already know). And I'm over it. 364 days a year it rarely comes to mind, and if it does, it's the memory of a very sad but fruitful time. Without it, we would have never had our own sacred journey, and then who would we be? Also, I have this beautiful precious baby boy now. It's not that one could ever replace another, but the void of childlessness has been filled. So I promise that I really have moved on. I really am happy. 364 days a year.

But the remaining day was this week. Unfortunately, I am not a normal sad person - I can't just cry and eat ice cream and stay in my pajamas. Not me. Instead, I get withdrawn and moody and everyone IRRITATES me and why won't they just leave me alone already? Except that when I'm alone, I start saying, where'd everybody go? Don't leave me by myself! I am not easy to like when I get like this. Which, thankfully, isn't very often. But it is right now.

It's my week in the rotation to lead toddler church, and I love to be around toddlers more than most, but I just couldn't eek out the composure for it this morning. Brian said, "Why don't you take Asher to my mom's?" But my response was, "I need to be around Asher right now more than anyone else. He reminds me of all the best parts of this."

So I guess that's why I'm writing this. Because he IS the best parts of this, the best of what can happen. Love is a risk. One heartbreak and one squirmy cuddly boy are what I have to show for my risks so far. I'd say I've been pretty lucky.


Liz said...

I'm sorry you're sad today, but it is probably a healthy to still be a little sad - to mourn. And I too am so thankful for your blessing - Asher truly is a joy, even though I don't get to see him often, just the thought of him brings a smile to my face - so I can only imagine the joy you must get being his mom!!

Thanks for taking risks (in life and on the blog) and for being so honest!

Madame Rubies said...

I think about your miscarriage a lot. Is that odd? It was one of my first experiences with true intercession, where I felt like some of the pain was actually put onto me. I was at Cursillo that weekend.

euphrony said...

Mrs. E miscarried what would have been out second child almost two years ago. She still mourns, though the birth of our second this past February has been a comfort. You're not alone in your feelings.

Emily said...

You know, that's how I get sad, too. But, I eat ice cream along with the crankiness.