Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Moving On

It's time to move on, right?

What does that look like exactly?

I guess getting out of bed for one thing, putting one foot in front of the other. Smiling at my children even if there are still tears running down my face.

Tradesman is back at work today. Hard for him to leave, it was hard for me to watch him.

I am comforted by the fact that many people are praying for us. More food came the other day. Despite my children's irresponsible parents who haven't stepped inside a grocery store or prepared anything for them, they are still eating.

I have been so touched how even complete strangers who are friends of friends have reached out. Honestly, if it hadn't been for some family and friends who have helped us in this manner I think we would have drown all the more.

During the times when tradesman and I just wanted to sit for hours reading and praying by the fireplace or lie down together crying, we could.

We didn't have to worry about how or what we were going to feed our other bewildered children.

Knowing that there are meals in the freezer for the coming days when everything seems so hard blesses me. It allows me to be a mama to my children who need me, and yet still a grieving woman.

We have decided to bury our babies here on our property. Tradesman plans on buying a box in the next couple of days. He wants to buy me a willow tree to plant near them in the spring. I have always wanted a weeping willow (how appropriate) in my yard someday. We will have a plaque made and have it screwed to a rock that will sit at the base of the tree.

Tradesman was outside yesterday walking around the side yard trying to find a place where I would be able to see the tree from my kitchen window. He kept waving and pointing his stake trying to get my attention. And all I could see was tiny, little fingers, and itty bitty little toes. The most beautiful, miniature bent little elbows.

These images will forever be engraved in my mind.

Finding normal may not be easy, but we will stumble through.

He draws near to those who draw near to Him. I think I will go sit at His feet for awhile.


Angelica Bays, said...

Please don't feel rushed to 'get back to normal'.
I'll stop there- you're a very wise woman- you know what you would say to someone in your pain right now.
Thinking of you, sister.

inadvertent farmer said...

You have been on my mind and in my prayers...more twins gone, I am so very sorry. Maybe someday my girls can play with your little ones in heaven.

It it will get better...I promise. Just be patient and don't rush the process of grieving. Kim

Kami said...

I found your blog through MckMama's BlogFrog Community. When I read your most recent posts, I knew I had to comment. See, I also have miscarried. I know the pain and the torment that comes with that. I also know the peace of knowing that your babe now rests in the arms of Jesus. There really is not one thing that someone can say that makes it better. You want to smile when they tell you they're sorry, yet you want to scream and ask for your baby back. There is no right or wrong way to get through it - even harder still is the need to function and make it through the day with the ones you have at home.

Please know that you are in God's arms and He, too, is grieving with you. You will be in my prayers, as this journey is not an easy one to walk - but thankfully, there is an ever present redeeming light at the end of the tunnel!

Taking Heart said...

May God bring you peace.

mrsroberts said...

I agree, don't rush! I saw this the other day and wish we would have seen this when we had our miscarriage. Not sure if you would be interested: Heaven's Gain specializes in providing small baby caskets and burial products for families suffering the loss of a child through miscarriage or early stillbirth..........

God bless you and your family.

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