Date Night

It's been quite a year.  Pretty awful, actually.  Two weeks into the year, we did our first IVF treatment, followed by months of painful shots, morning sickness, "taking it easy" as I missed special events with the kids to give Lucas the best chance.  All for nothing, as he died 6 months later.  In a world filled with grief and sorrow, we decided to trust God and take another step forward, and we did another IVF transfer.  I felt confident that I was going to have boy-girl twins.  I KNEW it.  In this eerie, weird sort of way.  I never had a single doubt about this transfer, never questioned our decision to do two, although our doctor warned us against it.  He continues to tell me that my body is a failure and I will only kill our children - what do I do with that?  But, despite all the statistics, we decided to move forward, to give our next 2 children a chance.  Only to have that end as well.  I'm at a loss, in this new place of bitterness, questioning everything I've ever thought is true.  I don't know how long it will take to move into a different stage.  I don't know how to ever trust this God that suddenly doesn't seem so good.  One day at a time, I guess.

I feel like I've become the face of loss.  The woman no one knows quite what to say to, how to act around, or what to do with.  I'm not sure exactly who I am myself, so I certainly get where people are coming from.  I can't be too sad, because then I'm not moving forward.  But I can't be too happy or smile too much, because then I'm cold and unfeeling toward the children I've lost.  No matter how I feel or what I say/do, I always lose.  It's this pressure I've put on myself, I'm not even entirely sure that's how anyone else feels.  But to me, it's a constant struggle.  Pull myself together - don't show up to school with mascara running down my face or wearing my PJs.  But don't be caught laughing - because how can I smile and pretend I'm not completely broken and crushed??

But, for 2 hours on Wednesday, I was a person.  I was simply Meghan, wife of Andrew.  Not the face of loss, not grieving mommy.  I was able to go on a date with my husband.  A work function, but only the second time we have found ourselves without kids since Lucas died.  The first time since we lost Noah.  I was able able to focus on something other than my pain, to do something fun.  Sure, it was technically a work event, but I found myself in a room full of people who cared.  Who knew what we had endured and were willing to show me grace and allow me to drink a glass (or 2) of wine, paint a picture, and call it a night.  It was nice to feel like a human being again, to enjoy something - as meaningless as it may be.  An, though this artwork will never replace what is on our walls, it felt good to FINISH something.  A task I have struggled with immeasurably in the past 4 months.

"Moonlight Path"