I want to apologize for a previous post. My sweet husband read it over after I had already posted it and said that, while he understood my intentions, others might not and that perhaps it came of sounding a bit harsh as if I was saying that others' lives are not as difficult as mine. Bless that man for trying to protect me from the misunderstanding of others and at the same time trying to protect others from my bitter diatribes. And so I want to apologize to anyone who might have taken my words as such. I removed the post shortly after, but have decided to re-post it, but this time with an explanation...
I wrote that post after offering to have a neighbor's children come play at our house. She thanked me over and over saying that she felt totally swamped (what with having three kids to take care of and the extra housework that comes with having that many children) and that I was an answer to her prayers. I know she meant it nicely and would feel awful if she knew that it hurt me deeply, but that is exactly what it did. It hurt. I felt as though she was saying that I was lucky to only have two children and that my life must be so easy to not have all the concerns she has.
I admit, I don't know how difficult it must be to have three children. I can imagine it is a lot of work, but that's the thing, all I can do is imagine. I am not saying that she has life easier than me or that my life is easier than hers. They are just different. Both of us have struggles and trials. Both of us feel stretched to our limits. But truth be known, I'd take her trials over mine - not because they are easier by any means, but because I miss my Luke like no one can imagine and would give anything to know her kind of pain.
Despite my missing Luke, I don't ever want others to think that I am so absorbed in my heartache that I can't feel joy or pain for others. As one of my dear friends said the other day, "Everyone has the right to complain about something." She mentioned that she was frustrated when one woman complained about how much pain she was in during the end of pregnancy and hearing another woman chastise her, telling her she was lucky to be pregnant and had no right to complain. The thing is, she was in pain! Just because she was talking about her pregnancy pain didn't mean that she wasn't grateful for her pregnancy. She was merely in pain and wanted someone to understand her pain.
I love this same friend because she lets me complain and understands that, while I'm hurting for me, I'm still happy for her and all my other friends. Likewise, I understand that even while my friends are ecstatic about their new babies, they ache for me. I guess that's what makes us friends. We can feel each others' joys and pains, even while experiencing our own emotions.
Again, I am sorry if my previous post hurt anyone. I did not mean to make it sound like I have to endure anything worse than anyone else. I was merely hurting. Hurting that I'm that lady with a dead baby, allowing me to be an "answer" to others' prayers. I hurt that because of my circumstance in life, I'm seen as the one who can and should pick up the slack for those with more children than me. I guess what I really needed was a safe place to vent for a minute and I hoped that this blog was the place that I could do that.
So please, if you are someone who reads this blog, be gentle with my heart and know that sometimes I just need to have a really good cry where my snot and tears are mingling together on my chin; that sometimes I need to pound my piano with my fists until the flesh on my hands is bruised and swollen; and that sometimes I need to turn on my "angry music" that says words that I don't approve of and turn it up as loud as possible. (Ah, the Matchbox 20 of my high school years sure does hit the spot on an angry day.) And sometimes I just need to complain and be bitter and hateful and yell at God for just a little bit. But know, dear reader, that even these strong emotions subside and I feel peace once again. And know that, even in my darkest of moments, I am still aware of the pain of others. I would never want someone to think they couldn't come to me and complain about their pains and sorrows thinking I might judge them. I also wouldn't want someone to keep their joy and happiness from me because they are afraid I don't want to take part in their joy - because I truly do want to celebrate with others when something wonderful happens. All I ask is that, after listening to your heartache and crying with you or after cooing over your adorable baby and listening to the miracle he is in your life, you will allow me to talk about my sorrows and joys as well. For that is what builds true friendships - our ability to hurt with others and laugh with others, often at the same time.
Thanks for your understanding hearts,