Christmas Ornaments

I had a good cry today.  Maybe I cried because I am away from Rachel - these times often make me feel more vulnerable, more aware of how tied I am to my daughter.  They make me realize (in a small way) what it would be like to live life without her.  My heart has been stolen and there is no going back.  But I had better start at the beginning....

One of my faveorite ways to do "me time" is to go to Starbucks and Chapters.  I haven't done this since I was pregnant.  Today, I wandered around and wrote down a bunch of books I wanted to read.  (so that later I can reserve them at the Library) Then I got myself a mocha and settled down in our van to read and reflect.  I just started reading a book from a friend called "When God Wept" by Joni Eareckson Tada and Steven Estes.  You might remember that Joni became a quadrepeligic as a teenager.  If anyone has a right to speak of suffering, she does. She asks questions that have been the topic of many books, but somehow her writing connects with me in a way the others never have.  There is nothing 'glib' about her writing.  Who is God? Why does He permit so much heartache and pain?  Can He really be trusted?   

After reading for awhile, I decided last minute to wander around Michaels for a bit.  I usually end up near the yarn section (even though I already have a stash at home - some of you know what I mean!)  I chuckled a bit when I saw that all the Christmas stuff was already out.  And then I saw the little personalized tree ornaments... 

I pictured our kids hanging them on the tree.  I imagined Ethan and Abigail hanging one up for Rachel in the years to come, and suddenly it seemed so right.  Maybe she will be with us this Christmas.  I hope so!! Wouldn't that be so wonderful? In a way, she always will be.  And so I did something I normally don't do.  I splurged and bought three ornaments with each of their names.

And when I got to the van, I lost it.  I sobbed most of the way home.  I imagined Rachel as a little girl walking beside me, her hand in mine.  I imagined her precious grin in a toddler face and her arms around my neck.  And I allowed myself to really feel what I haven't in a long time. Disapointment. Sadness.  I thought of my friend whose little girl was delivered stillborn one year ago today. (in the same room where we waited for surgery) I hurt because right now, we have only glimpes of heaven.  And I want more than glimpses.        


I wish I could say that as the day went on, I moved out of the 'funk' I was in.  I wish I could end this with something hopeful.  But today was what it was.  I just felt plain sad today.  I felt anxious about the future and about things I am not free to write about.  I watched David run after the kids at the park and felt heavy with sadness.  I hate feeling this way.  Later on, we picked Rachel up at the Hospice.  They told us that during the night before, Rachel was having trouble feeding again.  Only 10mls at a time and every hour.  But she is in my arms again and tonight we are all under one roof, and that feels right. 
And tomorrow is a new day. And God says that His mercies are new every morning....(wait, I guess I am ending with something hopeful afterall.  God has a way of doing that, reminding me of who He is and what is still True, despite how I feel.  Thank-you.)