This Christmas I decided I wanted to make
most of my niece and nephew’s Christmas gifts, instead of just buying them at
the store. Lucas always looks at me with questioning eyes when I tell him about
my crazy plans, I’m sure he wishes I’d just go to the store and buy stuff. Our
house was in chaos the week before Christmas trying to finish everything, and
we made about 50 trips to the craft store.
One project was my idea to make homemade
crayons, now when I say homemade I mean semi-homemade. I bought some cute candy
making molds (animals for Gavin, and butterflies for Maycee). I then gathered
broken crayons I had lying around my craft room, put them in the mold, and
baked them (find the directions for this here). It turned out to be an easy and
super fun project, and they turned out so cute (sadly I did not take a picture
of the finished product).
It’s been month’s since I’ve shared
anything on this blog—it has not been months since I’ve wrote for the blog—those
posts just never seemed to make into the public eye. I felt they were too dark,
too pain-ridden, too whiney, too everything but hopeful, to share.
I thing this blog has saved me, because it
has given me a reason to write, to open up my heart (broken as it may be), and
to face my reality. My honesty and freeness in my writing has hurt people I love
dearly in the past, which has made me question everything I’ve gone to share.
I’ve shut down for months now, I have
rarely cried, I have begun swearing a lot more than I ever have, I have thrown
myself full force into ANYTHING that could distract me from the pain. I have faltered
as a wife, a sister, a daughter, an aunt…I have dropped the ball in regards to
my responsibilities. I have tried to shape myself in a whole new way
(physically, emotionally, and mentally). I have tried to numb the pain with
nearly any method I could think of.
The truth is, the pain CAN be numbed,
attention CAN be re-shifted, and your heart CAN be put on auto-pilot…but only
temporarily.
December…as I sit here typing I can’t help
but think what might have been.
This month, right now as I sit here
typing, we would have our baby, had either of our embryos taken. We would have
woken up on Christmas morning with a baby!
It’s hard for me to understand that it has
been nine months since embryo transfer, it feels so fresh in my mind, it feels
like I’ve had zero time to heal when in reality, it’s been nine months. I wish
I could tell you that time has healed me, that I’ve gotten stronger with each
passing day, that Lucas and I have only grown closer, that faith has pulled me
through, that time has begun to heal my wounds…I wish so badly this was the
case.
I wish I could FINALLY update you with
glowing news that we have a plan, that we know our next step, that we are stronger
than ever because of went we went through. This isn’t the truth though, and
this blog has always been about sharing our journey openly and honestly.
I hold on to a seed of hope that someday
soon, this will be our story.
I’m in a dark place in my life. I’m
fighting to understand God’s plan for me, and I struggle to reach out to Him in
my heartache. I know He loves me, as I have seen His tender mercies, (although
I’m sure there are many I’ve missed). I know He’s there and loves me, even when
I lack the strength to reach out to Him.
Many ask what they can do for Lucas and I,
and the only answer I can think of us is to pray for us, because that is
something we are struggling to do for ourselves right now.
Somedays I feel completely forgotten about by He who created me and loves me—I know I have not been forgotten, and I strive to feel His love a little more every day—every so microscopically. I’m a broken soul right now and I’m slowly finding new ways to fix me.
Lucas is struggling, the heartache is very
real for him. I see the tears well up in his eye, I see his anger seep in, I
see the heartache that he carries with him and yet I struggle to carry some of
his burden and he mine…we’re both hurting.
The options are still the same, what’s on
the table now is adoption, or using an egg donor through IVF, neither choice we
hoped for, but it’s our reality. We both have to be ready for the next decision,
we have to be on the same page, and God’s timing will dictate that.
There is this though, we will continue to
fight, to hang on to ourselves, our goals, our hopes, our dreams, and most
importantly…our marriage. We don’t know what’s next but we cling on to hope
that we will find our way out of the darkness and find the answers we long for.
Any kind of loss is a battle. It’s going to war
everyday with yourself, hoping that you will be properly armed against the
daily reminders of what you can’t have, what you can’t control, what you can’t
fix. Like this post, it’s not pretty, or elegant, or hopeful…it can be
discouraging, and exhausting, and sad. I have faith that this will change, that
someday we will understand the pain we feel today, that we will know the path
designed for us.
I have learned that my timeline for
healing is not reality, that my idea to set aside 9 months to get back to me is
not long enough. I have learned that my healing might be a much longer
recovery. No matter what any of us may be going through, we must learn to be
patient with ourselves. We must take the time to heal, as long as that takes. We
must be kind to ourselves in our broken state.
So what the heck is the homemade crayon
story about, well it motivated me to write this. I am still very broken, but I’m
still “coloring”, even in my broken state. I have grown to love a quote I
discovered through this journey, it hangs in my office, and in my home, as a
gentle reminder that it’s okay to be broken.
“Broken crayons still color”.
