It seems silly to write a blog post about how I'm not sure of what to write anymore, but I never write for the sake of sharing; I have always written to process the things I'm thinking about..and more often than not I write when I've already had some sort of revelation or breakthrough in my thinking. Sometimes the breakthrough comes mid-post and sometimes it hits me before I sit down to type, but nonetheless, I've been thinking about a lot of things lately and everything I've been thinking of has inspired me to write and nothing I've been thinking of is well thought out enough to put into words...which is quite the dilemma.
I've been oversharing on instagram most days and sometimes feel like that little space is a mini-blog of sorts, but with that sharing has come an influx of emails and private messages about infant loss, transracial adoption, secondary infertility, marriage, and faith. And I won't lie, it's been pretty great and pretty challenging responding to messages about such important topics--but I realized that maybe I have gotten these messages because I choose to share the breakthrough and I don't choose to share the messy, in-between, chaotic and confusing moments enough. What if people knew that 9 times out of 10, most of my responses to the hard topics I mentioned above are "I have no idea?" and "Have you tried punching something?" Because it feels like the more I experience and the more I walk through grief and healing and adoption, the less I actually feel that I know.
I do realize there is value in the fact that I've physically walked through/am walking through the topics I just listed, and that in and of itself provides some sort of connection between myself and others in the same boat..and for that I am grateful, because I have met some of the most inspiring, incredible people through the difficulty of these circumstances, but when it comes down to it--it's all so incredibly difficult and I definitely do not want to be the poster child for handling it all well. I'd rather be an example of what it looks to just keep breathing through it all because that's a much better example of what it's actually like.
In my conversations with others, specifically about infant loss, I find that we're really all the same. We grieve differently and we celebrate our deceased children differently and we parent differently and we operate in marriage-after-loss differently, but we're all hoping to feel "normal" again and we're all hoping that both the good and the bad in us are accepted and we're all hoping that there are better things ahead of us. And we're definitely all waiting for the other shoe to drop...again..and trying desperately not to live in fear. If we're Believers, we've got the right answers when it comes to fear and we definitely have the right answers when it comes to the hope of eternity with Jesus, but the way those truths work themselves out inside of our heads and hearts is a whole different story.
So, basically, I'm here to tell you that I think about a lot of things. I think about my daughters daily. I think about delivering them and watching them leave. I daydream about healthy pregnancy and pleasant ultrasounds and childbirth the way it was meant to be. I think about race and equality and the impact society will have on my son as he navigates the world with a different skin color than his parents. I think about how my wedding day and how we had absolutely no idea what we meant when we said we would stand alongside each other through every hardship, and how it doesn't make sense that we are stronger after tragedy than we were before we knew what the valley looked like. In the same breath I long for the days where we didn't know the loss we now know, and I think about how I used to be carefree, starry eyed, and ready to conquer all sorts of stuff. And then I think about how I'm glad I'm not carefree because with the tragedy comes the actual conquering.
There are just so many things and they run along through my mind without ever developing into a cohesive essay that I can plop into this space...They are just the patterns of thought of someone who has come to the realization that I clearly long for neatly wrapped, well thought out, revelatory conclusions, but the conclusion I seek is not coming yet. But it will.
For now, I am getting used to the idea that all of it- literally all of it, is a marathon...not a collection of short sprints with conclusive, measurable endings. And I have a few people in my life who see it ALL, long before the breakthrough (if that ever comes) who remind me of this truth. So here is your reminder: keep breathing, keep punching things (not people) if it helps, keep seeking truth [Jesus], and keep giving yourself grace in the frustrating, confusing, super-hard-part-of-the-marathon-when-you'd-rather-quit-or-at-least-take-a-super-long-nap.
I've been oversharing on instagram most days and sometimes feel like that little space is a mini-blog of sorts, but with that sharing has come an influx of emails and private messages about infant loss, transracial adoption, secondary infertility, marriage, and faith. And I won't lie, it's been pretty great and pretty challenging responding to messages about such important topics--but I realized that maybe I have gotten these messages because I choose to share the breakthrough and I don't choose to share the messy, in-between, chaotic and confusing moments enough. What if people knew that 9 times out of 10, most of my responses to the hard topics I mentioned above are "I have no idea?" and "Have you tried punching something?" Because it feels like the more I experience and the more I walk through grief and healing and adoption, the less I actually feel that I know.
I do realize there is value in the fact that I've physically walked through/am walking through the topics I just listed, and that in and of itself provides some sort of connection between myself and others in the same boat..and for that I am grateful, because I have met some of the most inspiring, incredible people through the difficulty of these circumstances, but when it comes down to it--it's all so incredibly difficult and I definitely do not want to be the poster child for handling it all well. I'd rather be an example of what it looks to just keep breathing through it all because that's a much better example of what it's actually like.
In my conversations with others, specifically about infant loss, I find that we're really all the same. We grieve differently and we celebrate our deceased children differently and we parent differently and we operate in marriage-after-loss differently, but we're all hoping to feel "normal" again and we're all hoping that both the good and the bad in us are accepted and we're all hoping that there are better things ahead of us. And we're definitely all waiting for the other shoe to drop...again..and trying desperately not to live in fear. If we're Believers, we've got the right answers when it comes to fear and we definitely have the right answers when it comes to the hope of eternity with Jesus, but the way those truths work themselves out inside of our heads and hearts is a whole different story.
So, basically, I'm here to tell you that I think about a lot of things. I think about my daughters daily. I think about delivering them and watching them leave. I daydream about healthy pregnancy and pleasant ultrasounds and childbirth the way it was meant to be. I think about race and equality and the impact society will have on my son as he navigates the world with a different skin color than his parents. I think about how my wedding day and how we had absolutely no idea what we meant when we said we would stand alongside each other through every hardship, and how it doesn't make sense that we are stronger after tragedy than we were before we knew what the valley looked like. In the same breath I long for the days where we didn't know the loss we now know, and I think about how I used to be carefree, starry eyed, and ready to conquer all sorts of stuff. And then I think about how I'm glad I'm not carefree because with the tragedy comes the actual conquering.
There are just so many things and they run along through my mind without ever developing into a cohesive essay that I can plop into this space...They are just the patterns of thought of someone who has come to the realization that I clearly long for neatly wrapped, well thought out, revelatory conclusions, but the conclusion I seek is not coming yet. But it will.
For now, I am getting used to the idea that all of it- literally all of it, is a marathon...not a collection of short sprints with conclusive, measurable endings. And I have a few people in my life who see it ALL, long before the breakthrough (if that ever comes) who remind me of this truth. So here is your reminder: keep breathing, keep punching things (not people) if it helps, keep seeking truth [Jesus], and keep giving yourself grace in the frustrating, confusing, super-hard-part-of-the-marathon-when-you'd-rather-quit-or-at-least-take-a-super-long-nap.
