Shining through the Sorrow

I have a precious friend who jokes about her son's strong-willed personality being her fault because she named him William.  I named my daughter "life."  With her non-stop energy, hilarious sense of humor, and the ability to make you smile one minute and cry the next, she has certainly lived up to that name. Next week my Zoe will turn three years old.  She was my first healthy baby after losing my Gabriel , and then suffering a miscarriage.  The day she was born, I was reminded that God does hear my prayers, and had  finally granted me the amazing gift of "life."  It came in the form of the most beautiful baby I'd ever seen. Newborn Photography by Chandra Dickson She was also the unhappiest baby I'd ever seen.  Even in the hospital, she cried constantly and seemed rarely content.  She was colicky for her first three months of life.  It wasn't until she was about 18 months old that we discovered through the Children's Hospital that she ha

I am many things.  I am easily discouraged.  I am easily offended.  These are my faults.  I don't wear them proudly, but I can't seem to shake them. So often I think about my Gabriel and the emotions get stirred up, and I wonder if a blog needs to be written.  I consider whether the writing would be healing and whether anyone needs to read my words.  And what always happens is that I am reminded of those who couldn't be troubled with my tremendous loss, or who simply don't get it.  And that overshadows the much larger number of people who have either been in my shoes, or have enough empathy in their soul to care. "Why is his picture hanging in your home?" "You appear to work harder at celebrating death more than life." "You just need to get over it already." "How long has it been now?" Should my personal story and intense heartbreak be on public display for all to see?  Should I continue to honor my son's short lif