Monday, January 11, 2010

marathon

One year ago today, I was at my office, like I am right now. My body was acting weird- to be honest, I had to pee... A LOT, and I couldn't figure out why. I stopped drinking water half way through the day to end the craziness but it didn't end. I began to wonder if I was pregnant but very cautiously because of so much disappointment.

The next day, Tuesday, I bought a test. I was waiting until closer to the time that Merwyn would be home to take it. That day, for the first time ever, Joel said he wished he had a sister. Never said anything remotely close to wanting a sibling before. Of course, I took the test and it was positive. Merwyn and I were surprised and cautiously hopeful. And, Joel continued to ask for a sister through the next 3 months while we were ready to tell him.

The exteme need to use the bathroom ended on that Monday. I decided it was God getting my attention- he wanted me to know. There are a few times in my life when I am certain that God has spoken directly to me. One of those times came on 9/8/08 during my prayer time. I wrote it in my journal, which I keep sporadically. We had finished a few weeks before our last IUI treatment to try and get pregnant. During my prayer time, lamenting the failure to get pregnant, I heard God say to me, "I want to do it myself". On this same day, one year earlier, I was excited to know that it came true- no medical intervention to this 40+ woman, it was undeniably God alone.

This remembering "this time last year" came after remembering "this time 3 months ago". I wonder when the 10th of any month will stop reminding me. 3 months ago yesterday, Meredith died. I am still in disbelief. Disbelief that she died, disbelief over the reason she died, disbelief that last year actually happened. The dream like experience continues, for I don't have the fruit of those months with me.

This is where the marathon of grieving begins, I suppose. The energy and excitement of those first days are over. Peoples lives have gone on, as expected. My world moves slowly. This is the picture in my head...3 escalators side by side. The 2 on the ends move quickly, many people on them. The center one is where I am...it moves much more slowly.

The marathon. 2 thought threads. One thread...last year at this time, hearing her heartbeat, telling our families, ultrasound/diagnosis, etc. Second thread...firsts without her. My first birthday, first mother's day, father's day, camping, etc.

Tomorrow I will be remembering my tempered excitement over a positive pregnancy test. And there will be more remembering and wishing. It's a marathon.

2 comments:

  1. You are so perfectly descriptive about your feelings...my lesser grief experience, 2 miscarriages, felt just like what you're saying about the escalators...I remember, after the first miscarriage, just walking around Target, angry that these people had no idea what I had just lost...looking at some pregnant women I saw that day and thinking they had no idea how lucky they were...everyone's life was normal, and mine did not feel at all normal...how I continue to pray for your journey daily, and that God will just continue to reveal Himself to you, Merwyn and Joel.
    Love and hugs today as you mourn yet another memory of sweet Meredith.

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  2. You write beautifully and share you feelings so openly. I suppose a marathon it is. Not one you trained for as their is not training for what your going through. This year will all be about the firsts and we will continue to lift you up in prayer as you face them, slowly going up your middle escalator. Know we are praying for you and love you.

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