A poem and a little bit of my heart

I want to share with you a poem I found looking at another couples blog who recently lost their sweet baby girl. I don't know them or the author personally, but I know a little bit of their heart, because I too am suffering a loss like they have. The poem is so true. I guess it also comforts me a little bit knowing that others are going through or have gone through this too. I wish this never happened to any of us, it's not right or natural, but since it did happen, it gives me comfort that they are feeling the same things I am feeling.

This poem was written by a mother of a premature baby who died of pneumonia at 17 months. The authors name is Heather Spohr.

There is a lot of pressure that comes with grieving.
Every day, we get watched, observed, sized up.
People are constantly looking to us to set the tone.
We can hear them holding their breath,
waiting for us to smile, or laugh, or cry.

We are also holding our breath
waiting to see how people will react to us.
If we laugh, will people think we’re being disrespectful to our son?
Because sometimes we laugh.

If we cry, will we make people feel awkward?
Because we cry, a lot.
If we smile, will people think we’re okay?
Because we’re not okay.
We’re not better, or fixed, or over it.

It’s this constant up and down
like a thermometer…rising and falling.

But most of all, we put pressure on ourselves.
We get tired of crying, but we feel guilty if we don’t.
We miss hearing his voice
but just the sound of it can throw us into utter despair.

Our friends invite us to things.
We want to be with them.
But sometimes it’s just too much.
We hope they keep inviting.
We hope one day it won’t be too much.

Grief is a dance we don’t know the steps to
but we shuffle along, trying not to mess up.

Here is a family picture that was taken at Christmas. How I miss those simpler times with that sweet baby in my arms. We tried yet another church today. It was good, I think it's been my favorite out of all of them, all seven that is :) I don't think we are too picky, but it's good to be a little picky. I need to be fed at the church I attend and I also need to be able to see myself serving a purpose there. Then there is Reese's expectations of a church and if Lane likes it etc. God has a place for us...praying that he'll show us where that is.

Case would be 7 months old today. Would he be sitting up? Would he be trying to crawl? Would that first tooth have broke through yet? Every part of me aches to see him do those things. The harsh reality that hits me straight in the stomach is that there isn't anything else I can see, nothing more I can put in his baby book...that hurts so much it can literally take my breath away. Please pray that God gives me enough comfort and peace to get through those really sad times, the hit in the stomach, that can come over me so strongly some days.