I often find myself between where I want to be in my grief and where I am currently. Sometimes I want to be more to this side or maybe the clear end of the other specturm of grief.
Three years, amazingly hard, joyous, frightful, exhausting yet powerful three years later. That hasnt changed.
Most of the time I am content in where I stand in my life, but there is still pangs of grief that consume me.
I find myself longing to hold Ethan to beg the lord to please make this nightmare go away, but its not going to change not now.
I attended church a few weeks back and we started a series called Marked, they are using tattoos as a reference. And this series caught my attention from the moment I knew it was one about tattoos and two when I heard the reference marked.
I am forever marked with my sons footprints and two marked with the tragic loss of my son that I have to learn how to live with daily, weekly, yearly and sometimes every second.
But the priest/pastor started talking about God and how we sometimes feel he is responsible for the things that happen to us, or that if he is not responsible for making them happen that he allowed it to happen.
About a year ago I came to terms with the fact I do not believe that God made me lose my son to teach me a lesson, or that he would allow such a thing. I kinda look at it like he knows the pain of losing a child and I am sure the day we lost Ethan he was crying with us.
The priest/pastor started taking about when him and his wife lost their baby and how much pain, hurt, resentment they had to wrestle with. How he even admitted that when they found out friends of theirs were having a baby, in his darkest hour he even wished they would lose their baby.
I have never ever cried during a service but this one I couldnt stop. Each time I dried my eyes the tears kept seeping out of the ducts of my eyes. I didnt feel embarrased as I normally would for crying in public. I think I was in total awe that this man had been though something so horrible and was so brutally honest about questioning God and wishing such horrible things on someone else. And I also flat out for the first time in three years sat in church crying over my son and let go and took it all in.
There are a lot of things I wish I didnt do or did do still to this day. Like going to Ethans grave all the time.
When we first lost Ethan, okay the first year after we lost him. His grave was my emotional sancutuary. It was where I could baby my baby that I couldnt hold or baby in real life. I decorated it and thought those people who burried their babys and didnt decorate their angels graves and show their outward expression of love, must not have loved them that much.
I didnt wish anyone to lose their baby but I passed judgement on those who didnt visit all the time like I felt I had to.
And well I am now one of those people, at first through the second year of Ethans life. I resented myself for not being there as often as I was the first year. I got mad at myself for not decorating on a holiday as I felt I should have been doing.
And now entering the third year I have come to terms that my outward expression of decorating his grave. Does not mean I do not love or miss my son. He will always be in my heart and I think I know in my heart that he knows how deep my love is.
I still wish I could be back at the beginning specturm of his loss doing all that, but it hurts too much and I think I have finally accepted that it does not make me a bad mom.
Im sure people who see baby land and the graves that are lonely looking know in their hearts that my heart is with my son.
1 Samuel 1:27-28 - I prayed for this child, and the LORD has granted me what I asked of him. 28 So now I give him to the LORD. For his whole life he will be given over to the LORD.” And he worshiped the LORD there.