Sunday, June 27, 2010

And so it rains today...

Here's another attempt at describing how I feel every day as a mother who lost her first and only baby... a glimpse through my window...

Most days it feels like I am sitting inside of my heart, my home, and it's raining outside. I sit alone, in a small space, absentmindedly, in a daze, looking out the window of my heart into a world covered by gray clouds releasing a constant rainfall. Some days it's a light rainfall; other days it's a downpour. But nonetheless, rain constantly drums down on the rooftop and raindrops constantly tap against the window pane.

Some days, like yesterday, a ray of sunshine breaks through and sunlight pours in through the window and rests on me. Even though I can see a sliver of sun, the rain never ceases. So with the brief ray of sun that shines through the gray clouds and rain, appears a delicate, transparent, rainbow. Then inevitably, the clouds move by to once again hide the sun and erase the rainbow.


It's always raining in my heart, but there are some moments with the sun and rainbows and some moments where it's not raining so heavily... and I live for those moments. Those small, fleeting moments of happiness and hope, but it's always raining in my heart.

This morning as it rained in my heart I searched for sources of sunshine and perhaps even a rainbow, but they didn't come. Instead this morning as I sat in church, it just rained and rained in my heart. And some days when it rains like that the rain overflows and trickles out through my eyes and down my cheeks. Today I did all I could to keep the rain from overflowing as I sat in the middle of the church service.

Why? This morning a mother and father sat with their newborn baby girl directly in the row in front of me. I couldn't see the worship band or the pastor or anything else that I was supposed to be seeing. Instead, for about an hour, all I saw was this mother holding her baby girl over her shoulder so that the baby girl's face was no more than a few feet away from my own.

God, don't you know how much pain that brings me - the sight of a mother with her new baby right in front of me like it's being rubbed in my face that that's not me and that's not Hailey? And really God, don't you know that I can't focus on you or worship you or learn more about you when I am so distracted by the sight in front of me? Why God?

Yes, being around babies and their mothers is still difficult. It's especially difficult when they're right in front of you - literally right in front of your face - and you can't do anything to avoid them (although I will admit I contemplated removing myself from the situation and sitting elsewhere). And it's especially hard when that baby is a girl, and when that baby reminds me so much of Hailey... tiny nose, tiny lips, sleeping soundly with her mouth wide open. Boy did that baby and that mother pull on my heart strings this morning... I longed to be in that mother's place. To hold Hailey like she held her daughter. To say it made me miss Hailey and made me sad is a complete understatement...

And of course, it brought back those questions that I will never have answered this side of Heaven... God, why did you let her keep her baby and allow them to be in this moment together... and in front of me? Why was my baby taken from me? Why them? Why us? Why Hailey? Why me? Those same-old-never-ending questions that I have to be at peace with remaining unanswered for awhile...

And so it rains today...and I sit and wait for the sun and hope for the rainbow...

Whenever I bring clouds over the earth and the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will remember my covenant between me and you and all living creatures of every kind. Never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all life. ~Genesis 9:14-15


(And how ironic that as I write this it begins to rain...)

2 comments:

  1. I don't think I will ever forget the first service I went to after Shannon died, was a baby dedication. I fought the tears the whole time, but couldn't resist and had to leave. I stayed away the following week, and returned that next Sunday, and again, another baby dedication. I felt as if God didn't want me to be there. I cannot event describe the hurt, although you know it, and I don't have to say it. He loves us, He does. Our girls are holding hands and smiling down on their mommies : )

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  2. As I sat at my computer this morning, I decided to read some of your story as your website was sitting here from the Hailey's Hope information.
    There is a human bond that connects us all. It may be like a delicate thread, but in special times it becomes like a line of steel that helps to bind us, one to another.
    This strand makes our sorrows more bearable, and in the long run that is what really matters. Hailey will be missed by her family and friends of the family, but the thread of our human bonds will always keep some part of her with you. I hope it will be an added source of comfort to you to know that so many others care.
    I once heard someone say that it's not death that brings us the greatest loss in life, but all that dies inside of us. As life goes on, you will continue to find ways to celebrate the memory of Hailey's life. May time speed your healing.
    I hope you are enjoying your mom's visit with you. She too, has spent a great deal of time grieving this past year.

    Passing time can never fade
    All the memories made;
    Loved ones never really part
    For they live inside your heart.

    Your courage is an inspiration to us all,
    Mrs. Rector (as I know you call me from 3rd grade)

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