We're moving! Nicole and I were there for a few hours tonight setting things up. I'm so excited! The place looks great and we'll finally have a place we can call home :) Nicole painted a closet and I took tons of pictures. I tried painting and realized that I'm really bad at it. I'm getting better, though, Nicole is teaching me.
In preparation for the move, we packed up Avery's room. :( Tomorrow (November 13th), it'll have been eight months since we lost our baby. Sometimes I'm brave and let the tears come with no resistance. With the tears comes the reminder that we were supposed to have a baby girl, but don't. Crying is so annoying. Tears are so inconvenient sometimes (most times). Right now, it's not a problem cuz I'm in a dark room with no one around and I don't have to explain to anyone why my eyes are red and stupid looking. I find that most of the time I try not to think too much about her because I know that it won't take much for one thought to lead to another and another and another and I'll cover my face by pretending to rub my eyes. I don't understand. What don't I understand? The usual. The typical things people don't understand and that us humans, with our minds of such little mental capacity aren't meant to understand. We are incapable of comprehending the divine, no matter what form it takes (good or, what we perceive to be bad). I think God has given me an unwavering optimism that won't quit. I believe that Avery died for something that I am not able or meant to understand. I've tried so hard to be mad, but there's no point in reducing my quality of life for something that I don't and can't understand.
Why did my baby die?
Why couldn't she stay?
God! You know I've been waiting to take care of a baby since I was twelve! I've been praying for my family since before I had a girl friend!
You know I'll be a good dad!
What about all those nights I'd be praying to you under the stars, marveling at your creation, praying for my wife and kids and grandkids?
I know you are divine and all knowing and wouldn't put me through this if you didn't have glorious intentions.
I just don't know.
So. It's here. The pain and bitterness I try to avoid most of my days.
It feels good to cry.
I'll do this again soon.
Baby, you're so amazing. And it's good to cry. It takes more of a man to feel these things and to allow himself to cry. It's a part of the healing. When we run from our pain and don't face it, it just festers and eats us up inside. Sometimes you just have to jump in head first and feel it all.
ReplyDeleteI don't know why God allowed this to happen to us and to our little girl, why this has to be our life. But He will carry us. I believe that. And I KNOW you will be a great dad. You already are a great dad. Avery is so blessed that you are her father. You never physicially knew her alive, the way I did, and you still love her so deeply. She grew in my womb, but she grew in your heart. :) Keep that optimism, love. It's what keeps the storm clouds at bay. <3 I love you.