Checking out of the hospital on August 1st some part of me was certain I was checking out of my life. Surely, when I was pushed out of the hospital in a wheelchair, my life would be done. Out the hospital doors and into heaven or at least somewhere other than where I had previously lived. Or into the life I had known before everything was shattered; I would be pregnant with Lydia and everything that had happened would be a terrible dream. Instead it was out the hospital doors into the oppressive heat of a Texas evening, trying to figure out the plans for our daughter's funeral. I guess I was going into a different life. A different or new 'normal'.
We had so much support and care that first week. Most of our family are still very supportive. I have a wonderful sister-in-law, always ready to listen to me talk. Then there is the support from M.E.N.D. and new friendships I am forming. Old friends are mostly a different story. I won't speak for my husband, but I feel more abandoned by friends. One friend whom I considered a close friend told me about a month after we lost Lydia that she wanted to be there for me during this time, to walk with me through my grief....I have not seen nor talked to her since that day six weeks ago (and not for lack of trying to reach her on my part). It feels like a very isolated time in my life. Sometimes that's good, sometimes it's not.
Thankfully, God is not like us. I've had days I've prayed almost constantly, days my prayers were only tears, days I could not pray at all. I've questioned and been angry. Yet God is faithful. I am so thankful it is not contingent on my own attitude or behaviors. I certainly have not always felt His presence, but He is there.
"The Lord is near to the brokenhearted, and saves the crushed in spirit."