I did something recently. Something completely out of my comfort zone. Something that scares me, makes me uncomfortable, and makes me question if I should “undo” it. With a lot of prompting, and pushing from Jeff, I signed up to attend my first Hope Mommy Retreat, coming up in April.
The thing is for the past 3 years I have had a hard time feeling alone in this journey. I mean Jeff has walked alongside me, grieved with me, and understands my deep pain as only a father could.
You see after we lost Zechariah, Jeff and I attended the “Grief Share” class at our church. It was a wonderful and challenging class. I am not here to knock “Grief Share” in any way. But, we often left feeling alone. Grief share taught us the stages of grief, it taught us the fundamentals about how we would grieve differently, and it was helpful to sit with others and share. But, we still felt alone and like something was missing.
When the doctor told us that Zechariah’s heart had stopped beating, we were given two options. Because we were so far along, we could either do a late term abortion, or we could be induced and deliver him. When they told me that the abortion would break up his body, and we wouldn’t be able to see him, I knew I couldn’t go through with it. We chose to be induced, deliver him, and hold him.
The hardest thing to reconcile was that our son who we loved so much, who we prayed for with all of our hearts, would never take a breath, never open his eyes, never…..
So we’d leave Grief share after hearing others talk about their memories and we would feel cheated. Because we were never able to have memories with him. I feel cheated out of rocking my son to sleep, watching his first steps, watching him grow, watching him chase after his brothers. I am angry that those memories were stolen from me. I wanted to have memories with my son.
I felt alone….until October when we attended the Hope Mommy Gala. For the first time in 3 years I didn’t feel alone. Women and men all gathered together…mommy’s and daddy’s all together to remember our sweet babies in Heaven. All of us with the hope of seeing them again fully restored in Heaven one day. The very next day, October 29 was Zechariah’s 3 year Heaven Day. Three years closer to seeing him running towards me in Heaven. Three years closer to holding him, and wrapping my arms around him. October 29th was the darkest day of my life, but also the sweetest. I never felt so far from the Lord, yet so close to Him. I never felt so incredibly broken before, yet so full of peace. So hard to describe these two intense feelings that battle each other. Zechariah has forever changed me as a person, mama, wife, believer.
So….I’ve felt alone. I’ve felt far from the Lord. I’ve been questioning and examining all that I always believed so strongly in. I’ve fought hard for my marriage, as it is so easy to blame each other for the little things when we are both struggling with the big things. I’ve needed to be seen. I’ve needed to feel community who understand.
So…at the urging of my husband I signed up for this retreat. I am putting myself out there. I am nervous and excited. I am ready to be with momma’s who know, who understand, who await the day that their babies run to them open armed. I am ready to continue in the healing process. I am ready to let more light into the darkness. I am ready to process more. I am ready…. and I can’t wait to tell you all about it.
Finding Peace after the Storm 