Just typing the title of this post was so surreal. I can't believe it has been eight months since I last saw, held, kissed, and snuggled my son. The time seems to have both flown, and taken an eternity. It's a strange paradox for sure.
I am not too sure what to say today. There's so much I want to share, but have already said it. What does seem to be different about this time between the 6 month mark and this coming October is that the month markers don't feel so big anymore with Isaac's one year birthday (I suppose that's still what you call it?) looming in the distance. Not necessarily looming in a bad way, but it does feel like this weight that is sort of out there, that you know you'll reach in the coming months. In talking with other moms who have lost their children, I know that anticipating the one year mark is hard, and the arrival of it is even tougher.
But today, sitting here at 8 months, I find myself in a different place. As I shared with my counselor this past week, I don't feel so much like I am on the crazy roller coaster of emotions anymore. I don't feel as often like I am just at the mercy of whatever is thrown at me and am left to somehow respond. The bottom doesn't fall out as frequently, and the twists and turns are no longer unexpected... at least, not as often. And truly, the fact that I feel like I am becoming more acclimated, to this "new normal" is truly a work of God in my heart. Of course, conversations with others, the books I have read, going to counseling, writing on this blog have all been helpful; but I know that it's the Lord who has taken all of those things along with my prayers and the prayers of many others, to bring me to a place where I am now a little more adjusted.
Not over it, not "all better"... but more adjusted.
You see, I now can answer with confidence when I am asked if I have any kids rather than stumble over my words. I can look in the faces of my friends' babies and smile (although sometimes through tears), knowing that they have been given a gift... just like I was. It's just that they have gotten to keep theirs a lot longer. I don't have to walk around the perimeter of Target to get to where I need to go so that I can avoid the baby section. (Not that I walk through it yet, but maybe soon). And while I still sing songs at church like "Mighty to Save" or "Better is One Day" with tears welling up in my eyes, I am now at least singing them again.
I miss Isaac terribly. I still do, and I am not sure that will change. How could it when you feel like a part of you is missing?
When I was in college, I spent two summers working as the head baker (best job ever!) at a Young Life camp in Minnesota. It was GORGEOUS there, and I am so grateful for those summers. One summer there was a girl named Katie who worked with me who was a fabulous musician. During the time when many of the interns had off, she'd bring out her guitar and we'd sit around and sing... worship songs, U2, anything. One of my favorites was "Jesus, Lover of My Soul" which goes like this...
We will love you forever, sweet Isaac.