Glimpse of a Rainbow

  

"The only way to see a rainbow is to look through the rain."

        I went to garage sales and consignment sales today and I admit, at first I felt like crying.  I would have also felt like crying if I didn't go!  Sounds strange, I know.  Who cries about a garage sale??  But you see, the last time I was in serious "garage sale mode", I was pregnant with Evan.  I was halfway through my pregnancy the last time Neat Repeatz had their kids sale and I was blissfully looking for baby things that I thought I would use in a few months.  I expected to use all of those awesome garage sale finds with my firstborn child.  I expected to use them with Evan.
       I've looked at baby things since I've lost Evan;  I've meandered through the baby aisles, and I've also been to a few garage sales already this year.  Everything I looked at was a painful reminder that I should be buying baby things for Evan!  Every time, I would think, "that would have been great... for Evan."
      James and I have been contemplating for awhile when the "right time" would be to try again.  It's been a difficult decision, for a myriad of reasons.  Physically, my body needed time to heal.  Financially, we're still paying for a baby we didn't even get to bring home.  I have to pray for the courage to face another pregnancy that will be a constant reminder of the only memories I have of Evan.  I also have to pray for the courage to stay calm and remain hopeful even though I'm not guaranteed any happy outcome at the end of any subsequent pregnancies. Most importantly, I have to be ready to accept another baby for who they are, not as a replacement for Evan.  Right after we lost Evan, I felt like I wanted to try again right away (but the doctor suggested waiting two to three months).  It's now been over eight months, but I'm glad that we waited, because at the time I wasn't ready for ANOTHER baby... I wanted my baby EVAN.  The nursery was decorated for him, those were his toys, and his clothes.  It's taken me awhile to work through these feelings.  I bought a curio cabinet awhile back to display Evan's things, keepsakes that are his and his alone, as a first step towards having another baby.  That way I could still honor Evan, and yet make room in the nursery for another little one.
       And today, while out bargain shopping, I did buy something for Evan.  I found a butterfly wind chime with green marble decorations in it (August's birthstone color is green), and I plan to put it out at the cemetery.  However, today for the first time, I noticed that there were more times than not when I thought, "Oh this would be so cute for our next baby!"  I bought a few baby outfits that aren't meant for Evan.  I bought a few other baby things that won't have the label, "Evan's".
      I began contemplating life in the future with our baby in heaven, and also a rainbow baby here with us.  It still makes me sad that Evan can't be here, and no doubt it always will.  The grief journey really never ends.  But today, however brief, I caught a glimpse of a rainbow through the rain.

Love This

Whose Perspective?

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him."  John 3:16-17







So many thoughts and emotions this Easter weekend...

I miss my son.  How I long to hold him, watch him learn to crawl and sit up, watch him play with his toys, sing songs to him.  I saw Evan's Easter outfit at Walmart the other day.  The one he would have worn to church tomorrow.  I almost bought it anyway.  A simple black suit, white shirt, purple and white striped tie.  There was a green one, too.  James probably would have liked that color better.  Either way, Evan would have looked so handsome in it.  I found a cute little stuffed bunny that I could've put in his Easter basket.  Something he could have taunted Wriggley with.  I did go ahead and buy that.  Something to decorate the cemetery with.  I miss my son.  I'd be lying if I said I haven't wondered, "How can this be Your Will?"
~SORROWFUL~

Our church always presents the life, death, and resurrection of our Lord and Savior in our Easter drama. Every year, I always watch with such emotion over the sacrifice that Jesus made for us, for me. To have endured such physical trauma and emotional pain for anyone, let alone me, in all honesty is beyond my comprehension.  Jesus KNEW ahead of time everything he would go through, and willingly endured ALL of this. Again, it really is beyond my comprehension.
~HUMBLED~AMAZED~

This year, I watched our Easter Drama with these same emotions, and so many new ones.  After I lost Evan, I longed to find other families out there, other mothers who have lost a child because I could talk with them and they "get it".  They know what it's like to lose a child, and they know the pain of waking up every day wondering what today would have been like had their child lived.  The struggle of experiencing sorrow and joy simultaneously.  The struggle of watching other babies being born, and other mothers proudly telling stories of their little ones (rightfully so), and yet we don't have any new stories to share.  Our story of our little ones ended the day they died.  As "babyloss mamas", we can get together and share (again and again) the same details of our baby's short life, because that's all we have left.  We share the happiness of what little time we had with them, and the comfort in knowing our babies are with Jesus, as well as the sadness that we have because we can't hold our little ones in our arms or watch them grow up.  And we "get it".
 ~UNDERSTOOD~

What really hit me as I watched our Easter Drama last weekend, is that GOD GETS IT too!  Not in an, "I know what you're going through because I'm GOD and I just know everything" kind of way, or "I know what you're going through because I can imagine how I would feel in that situation".  This might sound like a "well duh" moment, and maybe it is.  I always knew I could turn to God, and he would be there to comfort me, and He has.
 ~COMFORTED~

Lots of people can be there for you, however, and not really get it.  But God gets it.  Jesus knew sorrow and pain.  He LAID DOWN HIS LIFE for me.  Jesus suffered through physical and emotional pain, sorrow, and humiliation WILLINGLY.    God watched His Son suffer through pain, sorrow and humiliation WILLINGLY.  Because He loved us that much.  Wow.
~LOVED~

I was also drawn to Mary's story in a way that I had never felt before.  It was hard enough to say goodbye to my son in the hospital, yet I take comfort in the fact that Evan never had to experience pain and suffering.  Mary had to watch her son endure such hardship... stood helplessly by as he was beaten, mocked, and crucified.  I watched the video above and wept.  The pain in her mother's heart must have been agonizing.
~HEARTBROKEN~

God allowed all of this to happen because He knew this wasn't the end of the story.  God knew that all of this was taking place for a GREATER PURPOSE than what these folks could comprehend at the time.  I trust that God has a greater purpose for the events in my life than what I can see from my earthly perspective.  I can only imagine what "Easter" in heaven is like, but what a glorious time of praise and worship it must be.  It is only through the sacrifice that Jesus made, that I have hope of reuniting with my son in heaven.  And for that I feel overwhelming gratitude.
~JOYFUL~ANTICIPATION~FULL OF PRAISE~

He is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Happy Easter!

"He is not here; he has risen, just as he said." Matthew 28:6

Heaven Instead