Tuesday, November 17, 2009


I haven't been posting as much lately. I've found it difficult to express how I've been feeling lately. I'll do my best to make sense.

All week last week I was looking forward to a great weekend. We were going to Macon (where David and I both grew up). David is in a band and he was going to be playing at a church youth lock-in on Friday night. Then Saturday I had a maternity photo shoot with some great friends of mine, and then Saturday evening we were going to a wedding of a dear friend of mine that I grew up with (in my later highschool years). I couldn't wait to see old faces at the wedding (it was at a church I attended for a few years) that I had not seen in a while and was really just excited about all of it. I did fine until the wedding. David and I got there 10 minutes before the wedding started and immediately found a seat and waited for the bride to make her entrance. She entered and she was absolutely gorgeous! She looked so happy and I was so excited for her. As soon as the wedding was over we walked into the hall and immediately people started coming up and giving us hugs, asking how we were, and asking the ever-dreaded question, "how many kids do you have now?" Because of facebook and word-of-mouth, we had NO idea who knew about Noah and who didn't. When someone would innocently ask "how are you?", my mind went straight to Noah. I found myself having a difficult time answering the question and didn't really want to talk about our loss, so I gave a quick, "we're fine" and then just tried to end the conversation as quickly as possible. This made me feel so rude and I hope people didn't get offended. After a few minutes, David walked away from me and stood up against a wall. He looked incredibly uncomfortable. This is not normal for him. If you know my hubby, you know he is great with people. He can talk to anybody...whether he knows you or not, he is usually very outgoing and friendly. After a few minutes we realized that the reception was not at the church but in downtown Macon. David's mother was keeping Ethan at her house (just minutes from the church) and David didn't want to drive across town knowing that we had to drive back to Conyers and get up for church the next morning. I knew he was right and I felt so uncomfortable socially that I didn't think I could take another couple of hours of pretending to be ok. So we didn't go. And I was heartbroken. After we picked up Ethan I cried most of the way home. I had so looked forward to seeing all of those people and really wanted a chance to catch up with old friends, but at the same time it was so hard and I just felt so awkward. I begged God to help David and me not feel like this forever. I kept dreaming of what life could have been like....us going to that same wedding with our new baby in our arms...people gushing over him....and us....so happy.

Don't get me wrong, it's not always like this. We are perfectly capable of being sociable around our close friends, family, and church family. It's just lately we have found it difficult when we are around strangers or people we haven't seen in a long time.

My sadness carried over to Sunday. I dreaded going to church, but I knew the subject matter of the sermon and I knew I needed to be there. It was about happiness and what makes us happy. It was about how happiness should not be found in a "what" but a "who" (Jesus). We think if we have the nicer car, the bigger house, the money, the beauty, the 2.5 kids...if we could just have those things...we will be happy. God was really speaking to me. I realized that I was putting a lot of my hope of happiness on having another child someday....a living, breathing, healthy child. Only then could I ever be happy. But the truth is...that won't make me happy. Of course a child will bring joy to our lives, but there will still be this void...still the ache. I have to find my happiness daily in Christ. I have to. I certainly don't want to place any pressure on any future children of ours to be my key to happiness....to be my ticket out of this place called grief. I have to find my hope, my happiness, my healing in Christ alone.....

....and it's a daily surrender.


  1. It's not about being antisocial - I think it's more about not being ready. 6 months from losing Leila, and I sill go through that. My stock answer to the dreaded question is "I have a son here, and a daughter waiting for me in heaven". If it makes people uncomfortable, I try to explain that I'm okay, but I don't want to not recognize my little girl. And you know what? It never fails that the person I'm talking to either lost a child or knows someone close to them who has. People tend to surprise me by being more understanding than I assume.

    I don't know how long you've been without Noah, but I wish you the peace that God and time provide. ((hugs))

  2. Your last paragraph was so well said Lisa. Thank you so much for that reminder this morning-I needed that :)

  3. I read this post the whole time anxious that in some way I had made you uncomfortable this weekend, and praying I hadn't. After reading your posts the last couple of months I didn't feel ignoring losing Noah and all you have been through was the right thing. And I knew that you would understand and be praying for my sister and a healthy pregnancy with this little one. I hope that I did not make you uncomfortable, and want you to know that Damian and I still pray for your family.

  4. Beautifully written! I am heart broken for you, though. How hard Saturday must've been. I'm so very sorry. A daily surrender? I feel like I have to surrender hourly. . . . every minute sometimes. Praying for you!

  5. Lisa - I feel for you and with you all at the same time. Beautiful, honest, heartfelt post.

    Strength to you.

  6. I totally understand. I do well with family and friends, but strangers? That's a different story. After a bad outing I realized what I was doing and I've tried to do better.

  7. It is a daily surrender. I'm finding that too. It's so hard to put on the face that everything is "fine" when inside it's so far from fine. I've been feeling this way as well in the two months since we lost our twins. I find myself pulling back from people to some extent. That is a loss in itself because this grieving person is not who I wanted to be!
    I love what you wrote about finding our hope, happiness, and healing in Christ alone. I hope for that too. Thanks for sharing your heart.

  8. Lisa

    One of my friends lost her first born at age 2. Her daughter had an extremely rare form of leukemia. Her daughter died the week my daughter was born. That was 6-1/2 years ago now.

    She went on to have two more children. I asked her recently how she is feeling as time goes on and does the pain of her ache diminish? She said that she'll NEVER go a day in her life without missing her daughter. But with more children to take care of she is grateful to God for having less time to think about her loss and wonder what may have been.

    I hope that is the case for your family as time goes on. God Bless.