The Terror of Tomorrow

I've tried writing this out a few times.  I almost feel silly for admitting it, but each time I've tried, my fingers shook so badly that I just gave up.  

Tomorrow, March 28th, would have been Myla's due date.  

Instead of looking forward to this date with love, excitement and baby chatter, I've lived in a bubble of silence, grief and terror.  

I was absolutely terrified of tomorrow, but I haven't told that to anyone.  No one.  Even the thought of bringing it up caused me to shake with anxiety.  Too many emotions and not enough control is a recipe for tears, so I requested off from work a while back expecting to spend Friday hiding in my bed away from the world.  At least there I could cry in peace.  Under my covers I could give vent to the very real, very present grief that still exists in my heart for her, my sweet baby girl who flew off to Heaven before I got the chance to meet her.  

However, the last few weeks of mental preparation have led me down a different path altogether.  I decided that hiding away in my bed was a very selfish thing to do.  It was also, in my mind, very ungrateful.  After all, God granted me the blessing of another child. Not only did He grant me the grace of another child, He granted me the grace of a Saint. He took her to Heaven before she'd ever know pain, sadness or disappointment.  He gave to her everything a mother could ever hope for: love, immeasurable joy, and life eternal.  He even went out of His way to ensure John would come to know Myla.  To allow my grief to blind me to those gifts is an ungrateful thing indeed.

So what was I to do?  How could I sidestep my broken heart on the day that taunted me with the one whom I lost?

I e-mailed a local children's hospital.  I filled out paperwork to become a volunteer.  I purchased a whole bunch of children's joke books, coloring books, pop-up books and small toys and I put them aside for March 28th.

I decided that instead of mourning that she was taken from me, I'll celebrate that she was given to me at all.  

That I held her for even a few short weeks is a blessing.  That she'll remain a part of me forever... that I have her waiting in Heaven to greet me... that she's always looking on us with love and prayer... that she's happy to intercede for us always and in all things... these are all graces I should be grateful for.  I won't allow fear of the 28th blind me to those blessings.

Thus, the 28th has become something I've timidly begun looking forward to.  I'm still scared I'll react differently when tomorrow rolls around, but knowing I've got folks already looking forward to getting a dose of fun will likely make it easier for me to push past the fear and reach out with love.  I don't want to disappoint them.  

Plus, I feel it's only fair that I repay God's kindness in some small way.  Bringing joy to His other children is a pretty good way, in my mind, to do that.  I'm sure Myla approves.

Thanks for listening, guys.  I appreciate it.

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