You Think You're Uncomfortable...

Well, this has been on mind for... about 3 weeks after I had Mackenzie.  I'm not sure what people expected me to do after giving birth to such a beautiful baby girl, who looked so much like her daddy, and coming home, knowing she would never join us physically in our home.

Did you expect me to stay home?  To not go out?  To not go to the grocery store?  To not take Anna to her activities and favorite places?  Was I supposed to stay in bed and cry for days?  Sink into a deep depression?

Here's the thing...  when the unthinkable happened, the first thing I wanted to do was continue my life in the best way I knew how. We got home Saturday, Mackenzie has been born that morning, and I said to Jeff and my parents... "I am going to church in the morning.".  They looked at me like I was crazy, my response... "If we can't start there, where can we?". (Church ended up being canceled, but nontheless...)  I knew that if I didn't hold my head up, and face people as soon as possible, that things would not be good for me.  Was it hard?  Is it hard?  YES.  Would it be easier to stay home?  most days.  But I still have to live.  I can't put Anna's life on hold.  That wouldn't be fair to her or her sister.

Going back into the community and seeing people who "know" you, and they pretty much go white when they see you, and turn the other way, is the hardest thing I have ever dealt with.  It hurts.  Or if they can't even ask "how are you?"  It makes me feel like they are ignoring the fact that Mackenzie was born. 

I understand that it's awkward for people, because they don't know if they're going to upset me or how I will react.  I also know that they are not sure if they are going to get upset.  Well... You think you're uncomfortable...?  How do you think I feel? Guess what?!  It's OK!  It's OK to cry, or shed a tear, it's great if you ask me about my daughter.  It hurts less for me to tell you how beautiful she was, then it does for me to see you turn and walk away.  She is my daughter. The fact that she is in Heaven is nothing for me to be ashamed of and I enjoy talking about her.  I felt like I was expecting to much from people, until I read this book, I Will Carry You:  The Sacred Dance of Grief and Joy written by Angie Smith.  Angie gets "it".  No more explanation needed.

I do have to say, that for the amount of people who donn't know how to handle the situation, I was lucky that there are so many more that do.  Sometimes all it takes is "Hi, how are you doing?"  and that genuine smile.  I can tell you care.

I know you read this and think that I am strong.  I am not.  Not on my own.  I have prayed for that strength.  You have prayed for me to receive that strength, thankyou.  In those days immediately following Mackenzie's death, and even now, I (and Jeff) honestly could feel those prayers.  God is my strength.  Sometimes God's strength is given to me through the encouraging words of others, their thoughtfulness, their notes and cards, best of all when they put themselves aside and ask, "How are you?" and give me that genuine smile.