Journal Entry: March 22, 2018
The woman in the mirror looks different now, different than she did 48 days ago. The natural smile she once carried with her is gone, replaced with a look of heartbreak. It now requires effort and intention to bring a smile across her face.
The woman in the mirror was a few minutes late for work this morning because she found herself crying on the floor of the vacant nursery, before making her way out the door. She requires a lot of strength to hold herself together, to put the days together and to figure out her ever changing, new normal.
The woman in the mirror could lose her composure at any second. Maybe because she saw a baby close to the age hers should be. Maybe because she subjected herself, in some way, to someone else’s joyful anticipation of their baby’s due date. Maybe just because it hurts, she knows no trigger is really required.
The woman in the mirror is happy, in her heart, to know of another new mom and dad that will bring their baby home someday soon. She still just wishes that she could have brought her first baby home too.
The woman in the mirror questions her strength and patience in the face of many new uncertainties in her life. It wasn’t long ago that she would have viewed these uncertainties as mere challenges to be conquered, an opportunity to grow; she would have known without a doubt that she could rise to any occasion. Now her confidence is a little broken.
The woman in the mirror, now, more than ever, refuses to let anyone but God write her future for her.
The woman in the mirror used to be willing to press on and do for others when she shouldn’t have; but she no longer has the will to carry the weight that others are responsible for.
The woman in the mirror chooses, every day, multiple times a day, to look up, to move forward and to find her bearings, again. She knows that everyone would give her a pass, but she really wants to be strong again. She now has the desire to find her strength, rather than the strength just being an attribute everyone thinks she has, because she lost her baby and managed to function today.
The woman in the mirror is questioning a lot about her future. She’s trying to figure out how to listen more closely to God, to hear His answers to these questions. She prays, often.
The woman in the mirror hurts because most people don’t know how to talk to her about her Marshall and she wants to badly to hear and say his name, because he is always on her mind.
The woman in the mirror looks exhausted, with blood shot eyes. She cried more times today than she even knows. She heard her tears hit the floor, felt them falling to her pillow and even noticed dried tears, from days prior, on her desk.
The woman in the mirror no longer makes it through the days purely on her own will. She knows she wouldn’t make it through the days, at work, without a certain few friends who go out of their way to hold her up, to make her laugh and to let her cry on their shoulders. The woman in the mirror is so grateful for these co-workers, turned confidants.
The woman in the mirror feels lost and, at times, unrelatable and uncomfortable because some people just don’t understand how she can be crying again, out of nowhere, for the same reason she has been crying for the past 48 days.
The woman in the mirror is a mom; she often has to remind herself of this because she looks so different from most other moms. She has no child to tend to at the end of the work day.
The woman in the mirror still often thinks of what she would have done to save her baby’s life, if only she could turn back the hands of time. For the first time, today, she finally told herself that she can’t turn back the hands of time. And that these torturous thoughts are not something God wants her to put herself through.
The woman in the mirror is struggling to organize her thoughts today. The woman in the mirror is forever a loss mom. The woman in the mirror knows that she will never be able to enjoy future pregnancies in quite the same, carefree, naïve way she enjoyed her first, 38 week, pregnancy.
The woman in the mirror hates the quietness of her home. She longs for sleepless nights, for the physical touch and love of her firstborn child.
The woman in the mirror is getting to know her new self. She remembers her old self quite well, but she is different now. She can never have her old self back. That’s just as well; she would only want her old self back if it meant she could have her baby back too.
The woman in the mirror is making it from moment to moment because of the strength He continues to give her. The woman in the mirror is listening, for His guidance.