Do you know what has got to be the most frustrating thing? Spending a bunch of time on a heartfelt, very thought out blog post, while the rest of your family enjoys a movie that you watched maybe 37 seconds of...saving every other minute...only to have it completely gone when you go to publish it. The only thing left was the title. Serious ugh. What's up Blogger? Anyway, take two:
So, let's just ignore the first part of this day's entry and skip the picture. Come on, we all know what I look like and that ain't something we want to see. Just imagine me with some out of control hair in need of a long overdue haircut, a double chin that seems to grow every time I catch a glance of my mug in the mirror, and a sunburn from heck that has left me peeling like mad and looking like a leper. Yeah, not pretty. I'll spare you the picture.
On to the learning part:
1. I've learned that this person named Cyndi still exists. I am definitely changed, but I'm here. I am the mother of a baby that has died, but that doesn't define me. However, it is a part of me and always will be. Gabriel will never be forgotten. His life wasn't meant to be forgotten. He had a purpose beyond his own here on earth. He is a part of me, a part of our family, now and forever. But I also am a mother to four amazing living children. I am the wife to a very wonderful man. I hope I'm a good friend. I am a lover of the ocean, music, and gummy bears. I'm an undiagnosed OCD clean freak. I have interests and passions and even celebrity crushes. I'm a major nerd. I'm a total goofball. I'm still here. I needed to be reminded of that. I've definitely had to think about myself and remember myself in the last 30 days and it's been good for me to have to do that.
2. I've learned that I am a survivor and I can do hard things. A year ago I could have never imagined living through the death of one of my children. It's always been my greatest fear. But I've done it and maybe I haven't done it perfectly, but here I am, not giving up. Many times in the last year I've had the line running through my mind from
Rainy Days and Mondays by the Carpenters (or actually the version I have is from Cracker who covered it on If I Were a Carpenter, one of the best albums ever). The line says, " Sometimes I'd like to quit. Nothing ever seems to fit." Oh how I've wanted to quit when all of this just doesn't seem right or even fair. But I haven't. I've had the choice. I could crawl back into bed and stay there every day or I could've just pretended that everything was okay and that my heart wasn't breaking in two. Or I could do what I've done, faced the grief with everything I've had. A baby's loss requires grief. All losses do. I've read that if it isn't faced that it will eventually have to be, whether 5 or 75 years later. It can embitter you and eat away at you without you ever realizing it. I've chosen to grieve now and I've chosen to grieve out loud. It isn't easy and it isn't pretty, but it's real. I hope that maybe by being so honest that I've helped one person to understand and be sensitive to someone going through this. I hope that maybe someone who is going through this will see that they are not alone. Sometimes we feel so very alone, but there are others that know and understand and are there for us. In the book I just finished, I read:
“For there are moments in all lives, great and small, that we must trudge alone our forlorn roads into infinite wilderness, to endure our midnight hours of pain and sorrow-the Gethsemane moments, when we are on our knees or backs, crying out to a universe that seems to have abandoned us. These are the greatest of moments, where we show our souls. These are our “finest hours”. That these moments are given to us is neither accidental nor cruel. Without great mountains we cannot reach great heights. And we were born to reach great heights.” ~Richard Paul Evans (Miles to Go)
I know that I haven't been alone in this. I have had my wonderful husband and children and some amazing friends by my side. I've also had my Heavenly Father and my Savior, Jesus Christ, by my side every step of the way. They have been there for me in my Gethsemane moments but have also allowed me to feel the pain of being alone so that I could grow. Oh, how I've grown. I'm not sure that without Gabriel's death I would've ever felt I needed to grow. I never would have taken that first step up that great mountain that I was meant to climb. I am thankful that in all of the dark feelings that I've felt that are completely normal parts of grief, that I have not one time doubted my faith and love for the gospel. I know who I am. I know God's plan. I know it is a plan of happiness, but that does not mean it is always happy. We were meant to have the joys with our sorrows. We were meant to learn. We were meant to endure even through our sorrows and times of darkness. We can do hard things, every single one of us.
3. I've learned that I can feel out of control and still be okay. This hasn't been an easy lesson for me. I crave control. We are sent to this earth to do great things and we are given so much choice in those things, but not everything is our choice. We still have to accept the things that Heavenly Father has in store for us. We have to seek His advice in making it through those and knowing what we are supposed to do and what we are supposed to learn. We have to be humble enough to seek His guidance and allow it in our lives. Today was our stake conference. Seriously, it was everything I needed to hear. The theme was personal revelation, and it is something that I am struggling with right now. I feel very much in limbo with my life and I'm not sure what the next step is that I'm supposed to take. I've been waiting for that aha moment to come from my Heavenly Father but it just hasn't come yet. Our stake president reminded me of this great truth, " We are hear to develop faith even in the dark. We always have the choice whether we will exercise our faith or choose to let fear take over." I am so thankful for the faith that I have never doubted and I'm thankful for a Heavenly Father that is guiding me where He knows I need to go.
Blogging every day is a pain in the hiney! Kudos to those that can actually do it and stay sane. I thought for sure I'd be able to even put some posts on here that showed some of my chillins' achievements and fun things we've done as of late, but I could barely keep up with this. I know that some people think blogging is dumb (um, hey, why are you reading this?) but I know it has certainly helped me to get my feelings out. I know that blogging can also be a great tool to bring others to the gospel. Elder Russel M. Ballard said, "We cannot stand on the sidelines while others, including our critics, attempt to define what the Church teaches,” I hope that I have been able to share my testimony of the gospel and help in leading someone to know that our Heavenly Father and Savior know us and love us all. They know our wants and needs and have a plan to guide us to true happiness. I am certainly not ashamed to let others know what I know and feel so entirely blessed to know and have the courage to share.
Oh, and what a relief to be done with this. I feel like this has been 30 days of completely being self centered and I'm not comfortable with that at all. Thank you to all of those of you that somehow endured this torture of hearing all about me. A special thank you to those of you that commented as well. It was good to know that there were a couple people enduring this with me, so thanks to the two of you. :)