Encouragement Needed

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 life even as the years go by?  Do I dare speak his name in the presence of my children, to teach them about their sibling and the painful loss their parents endured?

Yes.  Absolutely yes.

For whatever reason today, I'm pushing the memory of harsh words away, and I'm thinking about the people I've made connections with just because of what I've experienced.  I'm remembering those moms who found my blog after searching the internet for "Potter's Syndrome" or "Choosing to Carry to Term."  I'm thinking about the priceless friendships I have with strong mommas I've never even met - Sara-Rae, Brittany, Carrie, Lindsey, Wendy, Zoe, Christina, and Erin.  And those I've had the privilege of crying with, who are always generous with their smiles, tissues, and hugs - Kelly, Amy & Bud, Mo, Stephanie & Blake, Natasha, Renee, Brittany, Jessica, Stephany and Laura.

Today I'm going to make a conscience effort to focus on the friends who think about my son just because it's the 21st of any given month, or those who send me a quick text when there's a gorgeous rainbow after an upsetting storm.  Extra credit when it happens to be a double rainbow, just like the day he was born.  I'm thinking about you Chandra, Hannah, Laura, Brandie, Tricia.

Today I am going to feel the sad emotions.  It's been awhile since I got out his photo albums and really remembered the bittersweet moments from that day.  Maybe it's time to do just that...

Gabriel, I miss you so much.  It hurts.  It physically hurts.  My heart aches when I remember hearing something was very wrong with your little body.  My heart aches when I remember enduring labor, moments away from seeing your sweet face, not even sure if you were already gone.  My heart aches when I think about holding you in my arms, looking up to see your amazing Daddy's sad face.  Gabe, it was so great to meet you and we're so lucky we had those two hours with you.

I cannot count the times I have wished to just have that day again.  Yes, it was painfully hard.  And yes, it was terribly sad.  But that short time was all we'd ever have with you.

Do I dare even wonder what life would be like if you were here?  Do I torture myself with made-up images of your presence in this home, among your siblings?  Do I go there?  Do I think about Joel having a little brother, something he continues to ask for?  Do I wonder if personalities would be different due to a change in the dynamics of our family?

My heart wants to go there, but my mind knows it's not helpful.  You're not here.  God had a different plan for your life, one we don't understand and simply cannot comprehend.  He does that sometimes.  I know that your death had a huge impact on my personal spirituality, and I do remember that your short life had a profound effect on many others as well.

I feel better.  This is what you wanted me to remember.  I know that now.  Please just know how much I miss you, little man.  Promise you'll greet me at the gates of Heaven.  I can't wait to spend eternity with you.