I'm so grateful we got to hold her funeral when we did, and my heart goes out to those who are planning births and funerals during this time. I am praying the necessity of quarantining will be short-lived so people can come together for these important moments.
I know there are many people experiencing personal crises, and that is made lonelier by the social distancing we are being asked to do to mitigate the impact of Covid-19. If you are going through something and need to talk, please reach out to someone you trust. It's more important than ever to reach out by phone or messenger for the sake of our mental health. Take it from the lady who is mourning while raising five beautiful but unruly boys.
Sunshine, walks outside, deep breathing of fresh air, and other healthy habits around sleeping, drinking, and eating can all help us get through what has become a global crisis.
I am staying home on purpose for the most part, but I did go out to the hospital today to take a blood test so I can start donating breastmilk for NICU babies. Last week my husband donated blood with Red Cross.
Needing to do something to help and to do it in the name of our baby, is a very real drive.
At the small hospital I visited in Payson for the blood test, they stop you at the door and ask if you've been out of the country recently or if you have fever or respiratory symptoms. If you say no, they give you this green wristband that means you're authorized to move around in the hospital. I was able to go straight up to Labor and Delivery, past the beautiful black and white photographs of newborns on the walls, to Anna's office where she does the blood draws for Mountain West Mothers' Milk Bank. It took less than ten minutes, and then I was back on the road home, talking myself out of any quick stops at stores. Because the truth is I still feel quite fragile postpartum, and probably shouldn't be hanging out at stores for a while.
We already homeschool and my husband has the good fortune of telecommuting for work already, too, so daily life feels pretty normal for us, except for the loss of playdates and any kind of social calendar. The boys all miss Abigail, too, and every once in a while they want to talk about her.
Sam spent yesterday afternoon reading Blaine M. Yorgason's most personal book, One Tattered Angel, about another baby girl with special circumstances, which limited her life but magnified her spiritual brilliance and let her touch many lives. Maybe Sam will tell you about that himself.
Working on Abigail's garden and having family home evenings in, where we talk about her, help with the grief of her death. I'm also painting for therapy.
I had a little paint night with my second son, Layne, last night. He painted a scene from one of his favorite Roald Dahl books, James and the Giant Peach.
I painted an image that has been in my heart a long time: Heavenly Mother coming for Abigail in the hospital.
I painted an image that has been in my heart a long time: Heavenly Mother coming for Abigail in the hospital.
I had seen some beautiful paintings of parents handing their babies into heavenly hands, but I needed to paint myself holding Abigail until the very end because holding her is all I want to do. I know she has a life and mission with God, but that doesn't change the ache in my arms. Even though I wasn't ready to hand her over to heaven, I needed to paint the beauty of God inviting Abigail home with open arms. It is actually comforting to know she is with someone who loves her even more than I do.
I am praying for people who are struggling as a result of Covid-19, and that is helping me to feel connected to God, too. Life keeps going around us. We are here to help each other. It's the only reason for living.
My mom suggested I watch Frozen II, and then Disney Plus suddenly chose to release it early for all the kids who are now home from school. We watched it Saturday. It is a cute movie and I was enjoying it, in all its silly sweetness, until a scene in a cave when Ana loses someone important to her and sings a heartbreaking song about loss.
One step, then one more step. She sings about walking toward the light out of the cave and it's so deeply symbolic of what it feels like to walk through grief after loss. If you haven't yet, go watch that scene, and you will understand exactly how we feel here at our house. Being left behind, and needing to keep on walking through this life, these are the themes of my life right now. I can't think about it without starting to cry. It's not that food has lost its taste or that I've lost the ability to smile or laugh. I know that happens to some people in grief.
For me, it's a central, core longing. I just want to be with Abigail again. I know I have work here or I wouldn't have come back from the dead. So I keep walking. And there's joy in it. And I feel Abigail cheering us on. And I feel God comforting me. It isn't easy but it's life and it's what life is for. Having purpose and meaning comes with a sense of duty. It is that duty that gives us strength to go on, even without the people we love. Ana says in her song that she isn't looking too far in the future. She is just doing the next right thing. It's not new advice. We've all probably heard it before. But in the context of grief, it is literally all you can do.
For me, it's a central, core longing. I just want to be with Abigail again. I know I have work here or I wouldn't have come back from the dead. So I keep walking. And there's joy in it. And I feel Abigail cheering us on. And I feel God comforting me. It isn't easy but it's life and it's what life is for. Having purpose and meaning comes with a sense of duty. It is that duty that gives us strength to go on, even without the people we love. Ana says in her song that she isn't looking too far in the future. She is just doing the next right thing. It's not new advice. We've all probably heard it before. But in the context of grief, it is literally all you can do.
We closed Abigail's funeral service with the song, Lead, Kindly Light. I told you she had a hand in picking these songs.
Lyrics
1. Lead, kindly Light, amid th'encircling gloom;
Lead thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home;
Lead thou me on!
Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene--one step enough for me.
2. I was not ever thus, nor pray'd that thou
Lead thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home;
Lead thou me on!
Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene--one step enough for me.
2. I was not ever thus, nor pray'd that thou
Shouldst lead me on.
I loved to choose and see my path; but now,
Lead thou me on!
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years.
3. So long thy pow'r hath blest me, sure it still
Will lead me on
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone.
And with the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile!I loved to choose and see my path; but now,
Lead thou me on!
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years.
3. So long thy pow'r hath blest me, sure it still
Will lead me on
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone.
And with the morn those angel faces smile,
Text: John Henry Newman, 1801-1890 Music: John B. Dykes, 1823-1876
I wanted so much to watch it with you and hold you tight. But you have others now who love you and help you process. Dad and I both cried through that part and spoke of you. <3
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