This was originally written on December 5, 2011. I finally had the balls to post it today.
When I started "The Bedrest Diaries" I was a woman distraught with my situation and yet felt hopeful and that there is a purpose or lesson in my supine journey. I never imagined my journey would conclude with losing my Mom.
Grief found me 3 weeks after my mom's death and after the birth of Hope. It took my infant daughter's cries and smiles to stir the dark despair. I was on autopilot before that point. Just getting things done and final arrangements made. I didn't expect grief to be delayed or come in ebbs of tremendous lows and then normalcy. Grief is a being all its own. It comes when it wants and stays as long as it wants. It makes you feel like joining your loved one wouldn't be so bad and then you see the beauty of life a moment later.
Grief is a dichotomy.
Thankful for mothers yet resentful to see other grown children with their mothers.
An ability to see life's beauty and then it's utter dark despair.
Grief challenges my faith in God and then gives me no doubt that He exists.
As I trudged through my grief one grateful day and one desperate day at a time,I noticed my 8 week old miracle girl wasn't feeling so hot. It appeared she caught a little bug and started with some diarrhea. The next day was followed with worse diarrhea and vomiting. Upon my second concerned call to Hope's pediatrician, we were instructed to head to the ER. I was certain we would wait for hours just to be told how to keep her comfortable at home. Boy was I wrong. They decided to admit her after lots of vomiting and the discovery that she was getting dehydrated. Watching people poke needle after needle into your tiny, sweet baby is torture. I cried with her and felt her pain with her.We headed up to the pediatric unit with an IV in her scalp and her tiny hands bruised from poking.
As my sleep deprived and weary brain recalled the night's events, I looked out at the night's sky from her hospital room and wept. "Why would God do this to us? My Mom is Hope's gaurdian angel. Why was she letting Hope down?" I cussed God out. Life is unfair, but this was beyond that. I could of handled this if this was the only situation I had to face. Coupled with all the past year has brought- this event brought me to my knees.
I never thought once throughout my roller coaster life that I might just give up. This time I was done. Ready to give up. Ready for God to take me too. The lowest day I've ever had in my life.
The saying, "Time heals all wounds" is true. 8 days later we are still here at the hospital, but should go home today. Father time has calmed my frazzled brain. Today I have fight. Today I can't imagine giving up nor fathom the thought that I wanted to give up.
During trying times in my life, I have always been fortunate enough to receive little signs that keep me going. Maybe I read too much into the everyday things I find are my "sign" but whether fluke or a little nudge from above, I got my sign.
During Hope's birth, it was a purple heart that flickered as I experienced a heavy contraction. Just today, as the sun started to rise, two small birds perched themselves on Hope's window and stared at me for a moment. As they flew off I knew I had my sign. Her guardian angels, my mom and dad, letting me know to keep the faith. They are here with Hope. Birds have always been symbolic to me and are apart of Hope's nursery theme.
So maybe God isn't an asshole. Maybe there will be a lesson in this too.
