Today, February 5th, was my original due date with Anneca. It's hard to realize that, had everything gone normally, I would likely be at the hospital right now, ready to hold a pink little bundle of joy. How our lives would be different right now: all the hustle and bustle of normal life would stand still while a precious spirit entered the world and we focused on her. I have thought of the normal "first" moments that are not to be: holding her, hearing her first cry, first bath, having the other children come to meet her, bringing her home, worrying if she was eating enough and growing like she should. It hurts my heart to think about. And at the same time I feel gratitude for the gift of Anneca. I feel it is a sacred privilege that I was with her every moment of her brief stay in mortality. She is an especially noble spirit, and if I stay true to my covenants and faith, she will be with our family forever. I have found immense comfort in the abundance of prophecies of the modern prophets that say children who die in infancy (before the age of accountability) are exalted. What an incredible gift modern revelation is! My main goal now is being worthy to be able to raise her in the eternities. I must keep that eternal perspective, even in the craziness of day-to-day living.
The last four and a half months have been a roller coaster. Days of joy and days of sorrow. Ups and downs mentally, emotionally, spiritually. In some ways, I feel like I have hardened my heart so that I don't have to feel the pain; in others, I feel like I have felt closer to the Lord than ever before. Sundays are always the hardest for me. Life slows down, the daily routine is paused, I go to church and feel the Spirit, and it always makes my heart sad. I want to feel, and yet I don't want to. And it's hard not to feel at church.
It is getting easier, I have to admit. I have more "up" days now. I am opening my heart up more to feeling than I used to. But I am also giving myself permission to take more time. It hurts feeling like people have mostly forgotten. I think of her daily. But that is a part of life I have to accept. It has made me look around and try to find others whom are sorrowing too, wondering what sadness they are holding which I have forgotten.
I have gained a greater testimony of healing through service. Especially shortly after Anneca's burial, I forced myself to get out and serve. I took meals to people in the ward, tried to watch friends' kids, took silly little gifts to people, tried to help my neighbors when I could, etc. It definitely helped me get outside my own sorrow, although I still had to face it at some point. Grieving is anything but linear, and one of the most important elements of healing is simply time.
We went to the cemetary this past Sunday, after having several inches of snow fall this past week. The headstones were all covered in snow and I wondered if we would be able to find Anneca's. Kyle uncovered one and I knew it was close, but he had gone a little too far. I walked over and uncovered where I thought it was and there it was! It meant so much to me that we were able to find it, even covered in 5-6 inches of snow. That cemetary is hallowed ground for me. A part of me feels complete, whole when I go there. This miserable cold is hard mostly because it means I can not go as often. But I know the Spring will come.
I am ever more grateful for the gift of Christ, which made it possible for Spring to come. Hope and sunshine and warmth will come because of His Infinite and Eternal Atonement for me and for Anneca. I know He lives and loves me. I am learning to trust Him on a deeper level than I have ever been asked to trust before. I emphasize learning because there are still days when I ask, "Why?" And even though I know the answer, I am still learning to accept and trust. Therein lies the challenge--and gift--of mortality. Thank goodness the Lord is patient and gives us time.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
A beautiful post Amyanne. Grief work is called work for a reason. It isn't easy and it is so very hard. It is important to take the time you need for healing and to go at your own pace. Although I loved the Gospel, and was faithful and active, I never truly understood the Atonement and Plan of Salvation until Rodney passed away. It truly is a beautiful gift for us. Much love to you. I continue to keep you in my thoughts and prayers. Hugs, Amber
Amyanne, what a beautiful testimony you have. I can't imagine how hard it must be to go through what you are going through. But thank you for your thoughts. They are inspiring and help me to remember what a gift life is, even when it is hard. You are an incredible person. Much Love, Sara
It was so sad when i read about your little Anneca, such a beautiful name. My heart goes out to you and your family. It's times like these that i wish i was closer to friends, but so glad we have the gospel to lean on and to know what is to be and how blessed Anneca was to become a part of your family no matter how long or short it may have been. Prayers and long distance hugs to you and your family.
Post a Comment