The Stages of Grief

They say there are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. For the past few days I have been stuck in depression. The overwhelming sadness of what could have been, what we’ve lost. But today I woke up to a new stage: anger.

To say that I am pissed off would be an understatement. It reminds of a quote of one of my favorite Tyler Perry movies, “I’m not bitter, I’m mad as hell!”

                                                                          

I’m angry that this happened…

I’m angry that I don’t get to feel the joy so many others do…

I’m angry at all those who are still carrying their babies…

I’m angry that nobody has the right words to say to take away this pain…

I am just filled with so much anger. I want to scream, slam doors and run away from everyone and everything. I just want to shut out the world.

I’m not looking for an explanation or a justification; I’m looking to feel normal again.

Please don’t infer my anger for ungratefulness. I am truly blessed by all the support we have received. This is just another step in the journey. A journey I wasn’t planning to take. In a way the anger makes me feel human, that I am capable of feeling more than just sadness. This passage from a psychology article on grief sums it up perfectly:

“Underneath anger is pain, your pain. It is natural to feel deserted and abandoned, but we live in a society that fears anger. Anger is strength and it can be an anchor, giving temporary structure to the nothingness of loss.”

I want to thank those who have struck it through with me so far despite the mood swings, late nights of crying, and everything else. My family and husband has been the rock I can lean on when it all seems to be crashing down. And most of all where would I be without my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ? He promises “to never leave us nor forsake us.” My Bible has not left my side this entire time. I find comfort in His words:

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”

John 14:27

Through the tears and even the anger, I know He is in control and “all things work together for good.” I encourage you, if you don’t know the Lord as your Savior please allow me to share with you. Feel free to reach out to me via email or Facebook.

<3 JT

Letter to Heaven

My dearest jellybean,

            Words cannot even describe how much I miss you. When you left this world you took a part of my heart and soul with you. Though your life only lasted 6 weeks, that is all it took for me to fall completely in love with you. I am so glad you are in heaven with our Lord. You truly deserve perfection and now I know you will never have anything less

            I want you to know how much your Daddy and I love you, how much we wish that you could have stayed here with us. But God had greater plans for you. I like to think that you are just too precious for this earth. We prayed so hard for you for months, the whole time your Daddy was away at war. I’ll tell you what though, you are the luckiest little angel to have the Daddy that you do. I wish you could have met him. He takes such good care of your Mommy and never doubt the love he has for you. He misses you as much as I do. You would be so proud of the man he is, how he protects our country. I trust that you will keep an eye out for him from up there.

            You have a wonderful family down here. Your grandparents would have spoiled you rotten! And I know your aunts and uncles would just adore you. Plus you would have had plenty of cousins to play with. But I’m sure you are having fun up there with all the other angel babies. I have a lot of friends that have angels too, say hello to them for their parents and me.

            Jellybean I just want you to know that we will never forget you. If God blesses us with your little brother or sister I promise that they will know about you and how special you are to us. You will forever be my angel baby. We love you so very much!!

Love,

Mommy

We hold you in our hearts

Our Angel Baby

                                                     

It’s been 24 hours since it happened….a mere 24 hours since I found out about the loss of our first baby. Even as I write these words I still am in shock. I just don’t know how this could be happening. Reliving that moment in my head has haunted me all day….

It was a Sunday just like any other. 5am rolled around and I got up for my usual early morning bathroom visit. When I saw blood I really didn’t give it a second thought. I had been waiting for my period to come for the last 10 days and every pregnancy test I had taken up till 3 days ago had been negative. I grabbed a pad and went back to sleep. That day brought on bad cramping, bleeding and back pain but I never gave it a second thought, positive that it was menstrual-related. The day came and went pretty uneventfully, in all honesty it was a good day spent with my husband. Just that evening we sat on our patio enjoying the summer weather and ice cream. We even spoke of the great life we had, totally unaware of what was about to occur that would completely rock our world.

It was 11pm and the hubby was ready for bed since he had to be up so early for PT. I went to do my nightly ritual of brushing my teeth, combing my hair and using the bathroom. It was then that I saw it. Among the blood was a glob of gray tissue. I did a double take as I was about to flush, something just didn’t feel right. I used a piece of toilet paper to move it around to get a better view; I could not believe what I was seeing. The moment I cleared some of the blood away I just knew. I called out to my husband through the door that something wasn’t right. He kept asking what do you think it is?

Silence….

            I knew what it was; I just couldn’t bring myself to say the words. I sat on the bathroom floor and cried. 30 minutes must have passed before I got the strength to flush the toilet. The whole time I was thinking, ‘I am flushing away my baby.’

            I crawled into bed and into my husband’s arms. I didn’t cry, I wept. I convinced myself that maybe I was wrong and I would get up tomorrow and have the rest of my normal period; this would not be the case. The day that followed brought minimal blood and cramping, not typical of my normal cycle. My heart dropped. This would be one of the hardest and longest days of my life. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I just cried for what could have been.

My baby….

My daughter with her daddy’s wit and her mommy’s eyes.

Or my son with his daddy’s hair and his mommy’s drive.

            I called the doctor to get their opinion on everything, still holding onto some hope. But they only confirmed my fears. They ended with, “there is nothing we can do.” I completely lost it as soon as I hung up the phone.

I can’t help but grieve….

Grieve the fact that I never knew about the precious baby I was carrying.

Grieve the child that I will never get to hold.

Grieve the loss of something that is a part of me and my husband.

            I do take comfort knowing that our baby lived the perfect life, free from suffering and strife; and that in this moment she or he is in the arms of our Lord. But my selfish hearts still aches to hold her or him.

I miss our jellybean already.

                                                Baby ‘Jellybean’ Talcott

                                           April 8^th, 2012-May 20^th, 2012

                                                 Forever in Our Hearts

JT <3

Another perspective on Mother's Day

As we all know the 2nd Sunday of May is reserved as a day to celebrate our mothers. Don't get me wrong I  thoroughly enjoy spoiling my mom, but this year is a bit tough. It is difficult to be childless on the one day that is designed for those that do have children.

For my womb is empty...

It has never known the miracle of holding a life.
It has never nurtured the growth of a developing baby,.
It has never felt a kick from deep inside.
It has never heard a second heartbeat from within.

I don't know what it is like to bring new life into the world.
I don't know what it is like to look into your child's eye and see a part of yourself.
I don't know what it is like to feel the intense love a mother has for her child.

No I don't know such things....

But I know the sting of pain when asked, "Do you have kids?"
I know the heartache of wanting something so badly.
I know the sorrow of reading a negative test.
I know the disappointment of a certain monthly 'gift'.
I know the feeling of your heart dropping when you hear the news of another's pregnancy.

Yes I am all too familiar with these things.

It is a hard day for some of us. It doesn't mean that we can't celebrate with our friends and family, but in the silence we are reminded that we are childless. Some of us are for the moment and others for life.

My plea on this Mother's Day is not of pity but of gratefulness. Hold your children tightly, praise the Lord for choosing you to be their mother and most importantly appreciate the mother you were given to.

Happy Mother's Day!

<3 JT

The Process of Healing

It has almost been 23 weeks since this journey started, 159 days to be exact. I'd be lying if I said that this wasn't the hardest six months of my life. I've felt pain I never could have imagined, experienced sorrow I never thought possible and witnessed love I never knew existed.

I have lived, learned, lost and loved....and though it has been two months since the primary infection has cleared, I have entered into a new stage of this journey: healing.

This is the phase where all the initial shock has worn off and everyone has stopped holding their breath, but I haven't.

I live in constant fear of it coming back. I continue to do regularly scheduled treatment and feel the side effects. I carry multiple bottles of medication just in case. But I don't talk about it anymore. I am afraid of how others will look at me, how they'll treat me. I have realized when you have an ongoing illness people don't know how to respond. There really is so many times you can hear the words "I'm sorry" and "that sucks" before you just learn not to mention it anymore.

There were many days I just wanted to shut the world out and hide under the covers, and honestly sometimes that is just what I did. I began to let the illness rule my life. When people would ask how I was feeling I'd merely respond, "I have good days and bad days." I was truthful but vague.

People that have not been through something like this can't understand that even though the infection has passed and healing has begun it still is a process. I met with my specialist last week and she fully expects it to take another six months before I am fully recovered. There are days that I experience a lot of pain, it is unexpected and can knock me right off my feet. I use to classify these as my 'bad days.'

But I'm tired of saying 'it is a bad day.' Just because I'm having pain does not mean the whole day is bad. I have recently started calling it a 'healing day.' I no longer let my healing interfere with my daily life. I make the effort to go out on dates with my husband, attend Army functions, go to work and laugh with friends. Since changing my attitude I have noticed that my 'healing days' are fewer and further between.

Four more months of treatment is what I left but that is nothing compared to how far we have come. And yes I mean we, I was not on this journey alone by any means. Throughout the last several months people have continually asked how I am coping, but nobody has ever once how my husband is handling everything.

He was my rock through all of this.
He loved me through every treatment...
Every hospital visit...
Every tearful day....
And every painful night.

I would not have made it to the point of healing if it wasn't for him. He had to stand by helplessly as I struggled to maintain the pain and question every aspect of this situation. Honestly I think this was harder on him than me. I saw how hard it was for him to leave for work knowing that I was home alone having a difficult time. He is my hero for all the times he cheered me up with ICEEs and hugs.

If I have learned nothing else it is that healing takes time, it takes patience. I am still fighting for the day when this all can be a distant memory. But until then it is just a process....

<3 JT

Hurting People

It was just another day relaxing at home after counseling at Hope, I was feeling especially emotional after the client I had just seen. I couldn't seem to keep her tears from flowing out of my own eyes. There are so many hurting people. How many times a day do we pass someone on the street who is just aching to have someone listen to them?

Honestly there was nothing particularily 'special' about her story. She is a typical Army wife simply trying to cope, aren't we all? What hit me so deeply today was her hunger for someone to care, someone to tell her she's beautiful, someone that will help her with her burdens....Today would be the first time I shared the Gospel with a client.

I wish I could say it came naturally. I wish I could say I was highly confident, but I wasn't.

I fumbled over my words at first. I even paused to have a silent argument with God:

Me: No God, not me, not now. I am not ready.
God: But she is.

Wow! You can't argue with God...

I opened my eyes to God and He opened my heart to hers. She was so engulfed by everything I was saying, she had never heard about salvation or how Jesus Christ died for us.

I let out a sign of relief once I had finished all I felt I needed to say. She sat silently, taking it all in. I wish I could say that I gained a sister in Christ in that moment, but I didn't.

Maybe she accepted His gift later that day or maybe she will next week; I may never know what came of our conversation that day. But I do know that my life is forever changed by that client. I realized what a broken world we live in and how often we ignore the hurting. There are so many people desperate who are looking for something more: they are looking to be held, loved, safe. Only God can provide such things. Who are we to keep His gift to ourselves?

<3 JT

Separation and Selfishness

It is only Tuesday and I am already over this week. The hubby has to be at the rifle range all week which means he leaves at 4am and doesn't get home until 5pm (if we are lucky.) Today I found myself sitting at work feeling sorry for myself. Poor me for having my husband away for more than 12 hours....

Such a selfish thought! At any given moment there are thousands of wives separated from their loved ones because of this war. You would have thought as the wife of a war veteran that I would be grateful for my husband coming home to me every night. It's funny how quickly you adapt after a deployment, how near-sighted you become.

I use to hate (yes hate!) while my husband was deployed, reading Facebook posts about women missing their significant other whether it was hours, days or weeks. "Suck it up!" "Put on your big girl panties!" "You have no idea what I'm going through..." Just a few choice thoughts I had at that time....But now here I am doing the same thing.

So this is me saying sorry for my selfish thoughts and pity party. To all the wives still waiting for your soldiers to come home, know that you are not alone and you too will have the homecoming you've dreamt about for months. Remember how strong you are, how brave you are to love a soldier and sign up for this life.

Tonight I am thankful for my husband coming home, for all the soldiers serving near and far, and for the families that support them. HOOAH!

<3 JT