Tuesday, November 15, 2011

3 months night

It's been  3 months night since sweet Eva left us.  It feels like there has been no day since her death.  I am longing for morning...will it ever come?  Do I even want it to come?  The 15th of the month is such a hard day...it is the anniversary of her birth and of her death.  She never got to hear 'Happy Birthday' sung to her.  I have been anticipating this date with a heavy heart, knowing, from what I've read that this is the day (unofficially and only according to people who haven't lost a child) that I'm supposed to start being okay again.  There are some aspects that have gotten easier...like I can usually go through a whole conversation without crying if I try hard and there are some aspects that have gotten harder...like my arms ache for Eva even more as the time from the last time I held her slips by.
Yesterday I  was looking at pictures of our family before we knew Eva was sick and how happy my eyes looked....the innocence of those pictures almost frightens me as sometimes I wonder what I'm innocent of now...what tragedy is lurking in the shadows of the unknown future waiting to come in for the kill.
Before you lose a child you don't even consider the possibility that something like that could happen to your family, you're somehow immune to that kind of thing...it happens to other people...not to you.  Then when you lose a child you feel that you've somehow paid your due and there's no way God would pluck another flower from your carefully tended garden...then you become friends with other people who have dead babies and children and you join a community that you didn't ever know existed and a club you never wanted to become a member of...and then you meet someone who has lost 2 or more children and you realize that you haven't paid your dues...there are no dues.  The Lord gives and the Lord takes away and He could take another one of your precious ones.  That is the fear that gnaws at my soul...

1 comment:

  1. I fear lightening striking twice. I don't think I could survive losing my last son. My friend lost her "only", and we were not sure we wouldn't lose her.