When I was sad, I wrote and I cried a lot. I prayed and I cried. I talked and I cried. And I cried some more, until I couldn't cry any more and then when I thought I couldn't cry any more, I prayed for peace. Sometimes, we have to be empty in order to be filled up. The Spirit knows when we are ready and will not intrude on our private journey.
I had never felt such pain. The physical pain I felt giving birth could not compare to the devastating pain I felt when I heard the words that my daughter had died. It literally took the breath out of me. I screamed for what seemed like an eternity. I have never felt such horrendous , hideous, shocking pain. It was gut wrenching. I wanted to run and hide and die all at the same time. And yet, I had two more perfectly healthy daughters who needed me. I was literally being torn between two worlds. It was a mother's worst nightmare.
It took weeks to get from fog to numbness, and months to get from numbness to recognition. From recognition to grasping and working through the grief has been a two and a half year process. I am now beginning to feel, really allow myself to feel joy again. Only through the power of prayer and faith have I come this far. Only through the power of prayer and faith will I continue to heal.