Paper Crown Coronation

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Last month, I shared my miscarriage story.  The experience was heavy on my heart and sharing it with you allowed me to lift some of the burden.  I am so glad that so many of you have been touched.  The response was overwhelming and I'm grateful for all of the kind words. It means A LOT to me.  I thought that maybe sharing with the world was the final step before "getting back to normal".  Little did I know there was further healing to be done.

I wasn't so naive to think that the thought of Andrew would never hurt again.  A little piece of me hopes I will always miss him .. like since I don't have any bodily scars or anything to remember him by .. that having a piece of my heart being forever affected will be my "proof".

The thing is, and I promise this isn't bragging, I handled the entire event rather well.  I explained that the reasoning for this was because I was completely and overwhelming blessed by God.  I stand by this.  Those weeks during and after were some of my closest moments with Him.  I'm fairly certain my conversation with Him did.not.stop the entire time and it was SOO incredibly refreshing.  There was no room for sadness because I felt full and at peace. 

Please don't misinterpret what I'm saying though ... I miss Andrew deeply.  The thought of all the things we will never do and never say still give me pause.  I still count the weeks and figure out how far along I would be if he was still inside me. The thing is .. I just know, in the center of my soul, that it was always going to be this way and that I need to spend my time thinking about all the things I DID say to him and all the lessons I have learned during and since. Posting the story was my celebration.  It was my way of honoring Andrew and God and reaching out to other mamas and daddys that have or will experience the same thing.  In posting it though, I slipped.

It wasn't conscious and I wish I could somehow rewind and try again. (Isn't that how it always is?)  My only guess is that posting my story in some way "closed" that chapter and I felt I was "done" healing.  My nonstop conversation .. stopped.  Not completely, of course, but I found myself reaching to turn my radio back on in my car instead of driving to work and not realizing it was turned down the entire time.  I found myself with a mile-long to do list that came out of nowhere.  I basically found myself filling up my precious moments with non-precious things.

I decided that "I got this" and, in my own strength, decided to move on.  That subconscious declaration made ME the center of my universe and made ME the solution. 

It fashioned together a glorious paper crown 

and propped it arrogantly upon my head.

Thus it's easy for a peacock to flaunt its feathers

when there is yet no wind to ruffle them.

My storm was brewing though.  

I just couldn't see the clouds 

behind my electric sun.

As I was mentally parading around, proud of my ability to move on, heal and grow, I was also preparing for when I knew it could rear its ugly head again.  I had a game plan.  I was in control.  I was prepared for the holidays and for our anniversary.  For our friends' upcoming births and showers and the March birthday we couldn't celebrate.  What I wasn't prepared for came in the mail a week and a half ago.

The hospital bill.

There was just something about receiving the bill that made it all real.  It was THE BIGGEST slap in the face.  I just wanted to call the hospital and scream at them until my throat was raw.

HOW DARE YOU CHARGE ME FOR THIS!? 
I DIDN'T EVEN GET MY SON OUT OF THE DEAL!!

I was broken. I just wasn't expecting it.  It's hurricane winds savagely ripped the crown from my head and I was left bare. Then the tears fell.

I realized I just don't "got" it.  I am so incredibly weak and feel utterly foolish for thinking I have even a fraction of the strength to get through this without Him.  Frankly .. mourning sucks.  You feel great and then seemingly out of nowhere the floor drops out.  I honestly feel like I should have one of those 80s shirts that say "I went to ___ and all I got was this lousy shirt." .. except mine would say "My heart broke and all I got was a lousy $15,000 (before insurance) hospital bill". Bad humor, I know.

I know it doesn't seem like it but this post isn't about doom and gloom.  The past 11 days have proven to be fortifying.  My conversations have increased slightly and hospital payments have been made.  I know I have a long way to go.  I can admit that now.  I admit that I'm perfectly ok 99% of the time but that doesn't give me the right to ignore the 1%. 

My sullied crown is gone .. for now.  I know my Type-A flesh will override again and I will be left preening in false glory.  Let this post be proof .. only His crown reigns.

Where my crown falters in heavy winds, His stabilizes. 
Where my crown dirties, His will ALWAYS shine.

Cheers to MY King.  The one and only.