I know it's time to update when I start receiving emails asking me how we are doing. By the way, thank you so much for caring! I am sorry for not being more consistant with blogging. I guess I kind of took a break and let Lily's slideshow take main stage for awhile. I have continued to journal though. Below is an entry I wrote when two months had passed.
Oh, I'm missing Lily so much today. I am so thankful we made the decision to carry her to term. No regrets there. There's just no way to describe the peace we have in choosing the road we chose. And, I'm still amazed we were gifted 5 days to hold and care for her. She was so precious and I'm glad I got to meet her. I know Lily is *living* in Heaven....I'd much rather have her here, but also realize that's just selfishness. It was clear she wasn't created for this world. And, I fully rejoice when I think about what a gift it will be to know her for all of eternity.
How is it that 2 months have passed since the day I held our baby girl in my arms? It just doesn't seem possible that time has moved on so fast. And, yet there are many moments when the whole event seems surreal....as in, "Did such a tragedy really happen in our life? Or, oh, that's right, that event has already happened."
Once the eternal optimist, now it seems moments of happiness are somewhat tainted. A college friend once said of me, "If someone told Jessica the sky was falling, she would say, Isn't it the most beautiful shade of blue?". Ahh, the days before "d-day" (diagnosis day) when smiling came easy.
Now, I find I have to control my thoughts away from doubt and anxiety. If my child has symptoms of a stomach virus, I wonder about long-term devastating illnesses. If the other one falls on the ice and hits his head, I think about concussions and comas. If my husband's flight gets changed and it's been more than 1.5hrs past when he's supposed to call, I turn on the news to see if any planes have gone down.
Have I become a pessimist? A realist? A worrywort? No, I understand it be just a 'stop' on the trainride of grief. "This too shall pass". The anxious thoughts do not alter my ability to participate in every day life, but it is certainly a different thought pattern from how I used to think. Anencephaly and other tragedies were stories from other people's lives. Not that I thought we were impervious to painful circumstances before Lily's diagnosis, but now they seem somehow more real...and possibly more likely.
On the inside, I'm feeling a little like "Debbie Downer" these days...hoping it doesn't show through too much. As "Sleepless in Seattle" said it, "I'm going to continue to get up every morning, breath in and out", and prayerfully go through the motions of life until one day I won't have to remind myself of all the blessings I have to be happy and thankful for...it will just come naturally to me again.
As we continue to go through these stages of grief, would you please continue to pray for us?