Thursday, April 22, 2010

The Ache

I can't help but feel it. I can't really say I've ever felt it before, but I feel the pang of missing out on the healthy birth of my girl. While I don't dwell on this, and haven't bc it is not reality. But today a friend delivered a healthy little girl and I felt the pang. I am SO happy for her and so thankful, but for a moment I felt that robbed feeling. I missed having that opportunity. As there are no plans for any more children in my future, that is one of the things I was most looking forward to with Lillian and I didn't get it. This whole thing with her airway honestly feels like just like being in the NICU again. All this wretched information about her airway. It's like being the little room again. It is difficult to explain or for anyone to even understand. It is wearing to hear people tell you all the crap that you already"she's here"..."look at everything she's come through"...HELLOOOOO I get it. I know this, I know it all. However, we are not talking about a broken bone. WE are talking about her ability to BREATHE. I feel raw. Like an open nerve. Really what I think I want is to unleash all the thoughts I have running through my head, but I can't and won't bc noone is to blame. This is the way God intended. This is the path.

My friend with ALS died Monday and her funeral viewing is tonight. Funeral is tomorrow. Will be a difficult ending to a difficult week.


Alicia said...

First, I am very sorry to hear about your friend. I will be praying for her family, you, and the rest of her friends.

Second, you and I are different in many ways, yet so much the same in others. While Marissa is my first child and we might be able to have another, I feel the ache you are talking about. In fact, I wrote a post about this very subject just last week. You might have seen it but if not, here's the link:

I won't tell you all the things you already know and have heard a billion times. I will tell you that you do have the right to mourn the loss you feel with Lillian.

I am sorry that you have had a rough week. I am always praying for you, friend.

Hope said...

I'm so sorry about your friend. I understand your feelings, hon. (((Hugs)))

Finding Normal said...

I'm sorry about your friend. And I'm sorry about all of this. It's one more thing to mourn. Life would be so much easier if your kid could just breathe and mine had a normal skull. You're right, these are our paths, but that doesn't make it easier. Maybe you should unleash it on a piece of notebook paper (or five) and then tear them into little pieces. Or burn them. Get it out. It's way more healthy than to just keep shoving it down. Maybe. I'll be praying for you...