We’ve been back in school for 4 weeks now, and I’m trying to figure out my schedule and my class and find my gumption. So I just haven’t been much in the blogging frame of mind. I know this time of year always exhausts me – and I know I’ll find my groove soon (I hope) but until then I’m living day to day – sometimes hour to hour. This group of kiddos has me struggling a little more than usual this year. They’re great kids – I’ve got some real sweeties in the bunch, but the mix of kids together isn’t flowing as easy as usual. I have a lot of very BIG personalities (which I love) and when you get too many in one room those personalities start to clash and crash and play off each other. My first two weeks were actually great – the week before this one was okay. This week though – well it was rough. I think the kiddos are finding their comfort zone – which equals more of their personalities coming through (not usually a bad thing). By Thursday I was in survival mode – putting out fires where I could until I was completely exhausted and honestly heartbroken. Heartbroken for my kids at school and my WeeMan at home. (when you put so much of yourself out in your classroom sometimes there’s not much left for your big boy at home. ) In desperation I turned to my principal and cried in his office after work. I’ve got a plan for next week – thanks to him. I came home and cried some more to my husband and I prayed and asked my friends to pray too. I know I’m just going to have to lay it down for God – I’ll be spending a lot of time on my knees handing this school year to Him I suspect. But overall I feel better – we wrapped up the week with a terrific study trip to the Fort Wayne Children’s Zoo and I made myself a bracelet to help me remember to Lay it Down. I spent the weekend resting and laughing and eating and napping and laughing and putting myself back together. And I’m looking forward to spending tomorrow worshipping and praising and laughing and resting some more before heading back on Monday morning.
I know it’s been awhile since I blogged. Not much to say. Everything has been going along fine. We’re back in school so it’s been crazy busy and to be honest I spent the last month of summer just soaking the time up with my WeeMan. He’s growing like a weed – we had a frantic end of summer rush to find jeans in the next size because over the summer his 4’s turned into flood pants – and we were having trouble buttoning them. Unexpected! He won’t be 5 until December.
What brought me back tonight? Just reflecting. Two years ago today was gut wrenching, heart breaking as we suffered through the end of a dream. On August 11, 2011 we learned our last round of IVF worked and our first round of beta levels were excellent. On August 18, 2011 I began to bleed and have horrible cramps. On August 25, 2011 we gave up hope of a miracle and admitted to ourselves what we should have known on the evening of the 18th – we had lost our baby, Zion Amie, before ever getting to say hello. We fought the good fight. We endured ultrasounds, blood tests, and all kind of tests to make sure he/she was really gone before I would take the meds to end what had already begun. My heart shattered into a billion pieces as I knew that I would never hold that sweet miracle in my arms on earth. For awhile – the darkness was so deep I didn’t know how we would ever find our way out and it’s hard to explain to a world that thinks our baby never really existed how something so tiny and gossamer can matter so much. During that first year there were dark days every month – times when I cried for no reason and every reason. Times when I shouted and shook my fist and lost hope in a God that could show me a dream only to jerk it out from under us before we ever realized it. Times when WeeMan was the reason why we got out of bed and kept it together. People said it would get better with time. When you’re in that deep dark place it’s hard to believe that they could have any idea what they’re talking about, and I apologize to them all for not believing, for thinking angry mean thoughts when they shared their words.
After all is said and done, they were right it does get easier with time. Last year the darkness didn’t come as often – it was still there. But it was lighter and it was easier to fight through. We’re marking the second anniversary of our loss of Zion and while my heart still aches for a baby I will never hold here on this earth, my anger has lightened, my bitterness has eased. I will always miss my second miracle baby that I never got to know, but I know now that we can move forward through the ache and the loss – that someday I will meet my second child in Heaven. I know that God’s plan isn’t always my plan and even though I can’t see the end result right now, I can move forward and trust that He holds us all in His hands.