Ahh...the battle wounds of childbirth. Physical reminders of the ability of what our bodies can do.
I was prepared for the sadness and grief to knock the wind out of me, but what I wasn't quite ready for was the anger.
The day started quite solemn - we had met with the funeral home coordinator to discuss the details for Sunny's visitation and funeral service. We spent several hours picking out her casket, her flowers and the spot where she would be laid to rest; it was overwhelming and very difficult. After this was completed, we decided to go on a little family outing to attempt to shift our moods.
We had been given the most beautiful wind chimes from some friends of ours which we immediately hung from our front porch so it could be visible at all times. We decided that our outing would entail hunting for the perfect set of outdoor furniture so we could sit on the porch and enjoy Sunny's chimes.
While we were out shopping, I was constantly and harshly reminded of the fact that I had just given birth 48 hours earlier; swollen ankles, a flabby tummy, sore lady parts, a big purple bruise reminding me of where the IV was placed and to top it all off - my milk had started coming in. Although I knew my mind was only playing tricks on me, I felt like everyone I walked by was immediately taking notice of these new physical features of mine. I could feel myself growing angrier and angrier - in fact, I was pissed. I was furious that I had carried all of the physical evidence of birthing a baby, but I didn't have my baby. There was no newborn baby in my arms to inform well-intentioned onlookers that I was a mommy fresh out of the hospital. This stung bad and I knew it was a sting that would turn into the deepest wound that would fester if I allowed it. I knew I had to hand all of the anger and sorrow back to God. I knew He could take it.
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