Unexpected Sorrow

A few months ago, we were in the middle of packing and moving.  I was crazy overwhelmed and my sweet hubby kept repeating, "Just wait til September."  Ahem, I don't know if you know this, but it's almost November.  Unfortunately the transition of moving lasts beyond the moment you sign paperwork at closing.  There's still so much to be done - unpacking, decorating, change of address, new house projects, etc.  And we've decided to change banks and home/auto insurance companies on top of everything else, only adding to our never ending To-Do list.

Needless to say, hubby has since changed his comforting phrase to, "Just wait til January."

Truth be told, and with rawness at center stage - It's been a long time since I've felt great emotionally. Which inevitably leads me to struggle spiritually.  (Sorry JC.)  It began when I was carrying Ruby and it was really hard to tell if it was pregnancy hormones, or then if it was postpartum depression, or all the transitions we were experiencing - not only the selling and buying of our homes, but Kyle returning to work after being off all summer, our firstborn starting kindergarten, the new baby, and of course, the anniversary of Gabriel's death.  (Read about our son's short life here.)

Don't get me wrong, I am head over heals in love with my new baby.  I mean, just look at her!

And after a few months, and many home improvement projects completed, I am officially in love with our new house.  I mean, seriously, check it out.  We're surrounded by nature.  We have way more room.  Our home is a true blessing.

But something was stirring inside of me, and I wasn't able to pinpoint it yet.  With grief there are so many triggers.  And what's really weird is sometimes the emotions come way before you realize what started the tears in the first place!  What I came to realize, just this week, is that the move itself was a grief trigger for me.

I figured out that the move symbolized something very significant - It was one more thing I was doing without him.

I found that I had not really processed the act of packing up the small collection of tangible items I have for my angel baby- the ceramic mold of his foot and hand prints, the tiny outfit he wore, my giant framed picture of his face, his photos and scrapbooks - in other words, the only things I have left of him.  I hadn't processed the fact that I had to find a place in the new home worthy of all these precious things.  I hadn't processed the fact that I was leaving the home where I had all four of my children.  I hadn't processed the fact that moving up the mountain meant moving further from the cemetery where he lays to rest.

As a family, we were starting new.  With a wonderful new home.  Just one more thing I was doing without him.  Just one more thing I was doing with my whole family, with the lingering reminder that my family wasn't whole.

My prayer is that this new revelation will help me to process these feelings and heal from this hurdle.  I have to cling to my faith that we'll all be together again one day.  I have to cling to my hope that I'll take one glance at his face in Heaven, and know he's my baby boy.  I have to cling to the second rainbow baby God has blessed me with, until the day I can hold him in my arms again.  It is not easy, but I must remember my blessings, especially in my times of sorrow.