grief and love

“Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them.” —Leo Tolstoy

Our grief is still real and tangible and that place for her in our hearts will always be there.

And we are healing, too. We go forward loving others and each other and missing her all in the same breath.

Brinn has been talking about her every single day. Every day.

Mostly she just says to me, “I miss Kay Kay.” Sometimes she is angry and tells me so, “I am mad K isn’t here.” And sometimes she tells me “to just go to the doctor and ask for another baby K to come home to us right now.”

Just this morning we were talking about our K bug and she was telling me she misses her. I told her how much I missed her too but that K is safe and that we could be happy that she is with her birth parents. She quickly replied that she is not happy about that and she wants her here with us. That’s where she is in her grief.

It helped so much when a few weeks ago we got to stop by her house and say hello to sweet baby girl. She was crawling and smiling and pulling herself up and it was glorious to be with her again. It was comforting and hard, too short and every moment was cherished. 

It really did help Brinn to get to play with her for awhile. She went maybe 5 whole days without bringing her up. Then I saw her bring a chair over to some photos on the wall. She stood up to face the picture of her holding baby K. She started talking to the picture and telling K how much she misses and loves her. It was tender and heartbreaking and beautiful. I’ve seen her do it a couple of times since and I think it helps her process her grief. 

She has such a big loving heart which means she feels this loss in a big way, too. I can relate. I’m trying to give us both all the space and time we need to grieve and process. 

K is so loved by us and will always hold a place in our lives and hearts. 

a grieving heart

It has been important to me to stay present these last few weeks. Life’s challenges demand it sometimes. But today my grief is heavy and I need to write just for a few minutes. Though Mary Oliver wrote it best:

To live in this world

you must be able

to do three things:

to love what is mortal;

to hold it

against your bones knowing

your own life depends on it;

and, when the time comes to let it go,

to let it go.

Letting go is hard. The pain of heartbreak and mourning is intense. It does not make a difference that I knew this could happen at some point. I chose to love her with all my heart for as long as I could. That’s what I did. I’m so glad of that. But that doesn’t take away this grief.

How do I mend my grieving heart?

I don’t have all the answers to that. 

But I am trying a few things.

1. Let myself be sad. Be ok with however I am feeling and for however long it takes. It the past I have tried to resist my pain, hurt, and grief. This time I am letting myself feel it without shame or guilt or worry that it will last forever. I’m trying to be comfortable with being uncomfortable.

2. Share my grief. We need each other. I feel lighter as others have reached out and mourned with me. It is humbling and strengthening. Pain is more bearable when someone is there to carry it with you. I’m not embarrassed of my sadness or trying to pretend I’m ok when I’m not. Talking about it in a safe place is a relief. 

3. Be kind to myself and give myself space to grieve. I recognize that it is a lot that I have gone through. And instead of pushing through and continuing to do all the things, I am slowing down and giving myself time to relax into this. Like watching a show cuddled up in my bed, giving myself time to read a book, and we even canceled our big Grand Canyon hike we have been planning all year mostly because we just don’t feel emotionally ready with everything going on this week. I need time to heal and grieve. Instead we shifted our plans to something else and that feels so right and healing.

4. Remember my purpose and look forward with hope. When I look at the bigger picture and keep an eternal perspective on things, I understand my role and why I chose this. That gives me comfort and strength to know that I am fulfilling my mission and purpose in life. I’m proud of that. There is also other things that I can go and do in life. Heavenly Father needs me. 

5. Look for the good. I’m trying to notice my thoughts and remind myself of some of the good that comes from this—like what I have learned and what I have to look forward to. Some of the “good” is mixed with sadness because I’d much rather have her here with us, but I can deliberately find some positives.

6. Trust Heavenly Father. I have to put it all in His hands and trust Him. I have to trust Him to carry me through my grief. I have to trust that He will watch over her. I believe we are all God’s children so of course he wants this for everyone’s sake. I have to trust that I will be ok, that she will to, that God is helping everyone, and that He is in the details of our lives and also the big picture. 

I feel more in control and I feel like I know what to do with this heartbreak better than I ever have in the past. I am confident that I can grieve, I should grieve, that I know how to grieve, and that I will learn and heal through the process. 

go back to what you know

There are so many things in life that I do not know. 

I do not know how long someone will be in my life or if my cancer will come back. I do not have all the answers about why some things happen for some people and not for others (fertility vs. infertility). I do not know everything about God or heaven. Actually the list of things I do not know is quite extensive! 

The unknown can feel scary and overwhelming. Maybe even confusing.

A little fear has been creeping into my life lately. I'm waiting for results for my most recent mri. We have a big court hearing coming up.

So I've been practicing shifting my thoughts from questions and worry about the unknown and what I can't control to focus on what I do know.

I do know that choosing to trust God and let Him take care of me brings me much more peace and strength than doubting.

I do know that I am not alone.

I do know that I have the ability, capacity, and the courage to face whatever is thrown at me in life.

I do know that I live in a beautiful world with so much opportunity.

I do know that I have a purpose to my life. I have a mission.

I do know that God gives me inspiration and revelation and help whenever I ask and seek it.


There is so much that I know.

Focus on today, right here, right now and what I do know. 

Trauma and connection

I recently took a couple of trainings through zoom from Prevent Child Abuse Arizona. I listened to a lot of fascinating stuff about ACEs (Adverse Childhood Experiences) and parenting. Around 61% of people have had at least one ACE. ACEs can include witnessing or experiencing violence, abuse, or neglect and growing up in a home with substance abuse, mental health problems, or instability. ACEs have far lasting effects and literally rewire the brain. As adults, we may also experience various traumas. During the training, I made a single note (and now I can't remember if it is something she said or a thought I had, because, hey, I'll take the credit if I can...haha). It was this:

The antidote to trauma is connection.

There's not often a magic answer to the challenges of life, but I think that comes pretty close.

As humans, we NEED to feel love and belonging. And after trauma or ACEs we might struggle to regulate ourselves and sometimes that leads to unhealthy ways of coping. However, the best way to heal is through positive connection.

I would argue that means connection with other supportive, good for us people, connection with nature, connection with ourselves, and connection with God.

Little children don't need time-outs, they need time-ins.
Teenagers who are struggling need more time with us to feel love.

In general, we all need people who will get in there with us, listen to us, and look us in the eyes and be a safe place over and over again for as long as we need.
We all need time to connect to mother nature--to breathe in fresh air, wonder at the beauty of the world, and to put things in perspective. Nature is the best place to put things into perspective.
We, also, need to connect to ourselves and our own self worth. To notice what we like or don't like, what we need and don't actually need, and recognize the thoughts and feelings that flow through us without passing judgment on ourselves. We need to decide who it is we want to be and try to figure out what our personal mission and purpose is.
Most importantly, we need to connect with God. Through sincere prayer and scripture study. Through song or meditation. When we connect with a loving Heavenly Father and turn to Him, we will heal.

Things to think on:
How can I heal my own personal traumas through connection? Is there someone I should talk to (therapist, friend, God)? Is there something I should do to get to know myself better? How can I take time in nature this week? What are the thoughts that run through my head and how do I feel?

How can I help someone else heal through connection? Can I listen without judgement? Is there someone I could spend more time with? How can I show more love? How can I inspire someone to connect with God or with nature?

Because the antidote to trauma is connection.



Slightly related, but on a side note...Layla and I met some friends for a lovely hike at the Wind Cave trail.

Connect with people.
Connect with nature.
Connect with ourselves.
Connect with God.

fighter

*I wrote this post back in September. I just realized I never published it. 

I saw someone I hadn't seen in awhile. She asked if I had cancer and I told her my story. She commented that I was a fighter. That made me want to laugh. I am sooo not a fighter. But this actually gets said to me often so it's been on my mind lately.

I've said from my initial diagnosis, that if my choices were flight or fight, I'd choose to flight every time. Most of the time I'd rather run and hide from uncomfortable situations. I'd rather pretend it wasn't happening or wash my hands of it and separate myself from it. I'd rather escape than face it head on with courage.

So the thing is with cancer, you don't really get a choice to flight or flight. You just do. You have to "fight. " You have to do it. What choice do you have? Yes, I guess my thoughts have gone to those dark places of what that other choice would be if I didn't fight, because I have such fear of anything medical, but I know that is not my choice or one of my options. So I take it day by day and I just do it. Sometimes "fighting" just looks like showing up.

My fighting also looks like being carried. Honestly, I feel like I have been carried through this. Mostly, Eric is the one carrying me along. He is everything to me right now. And when I am not feeling brave, his bravery and strength lifts me. I feel like my ward, friends, and some family have also been right there carrying me through this. I don't feel like much of a "fighter" when everyone else is taking care of so much and encouraging me along.

At the same time, I do think we are capable of so much more than we realize. Fighting is recognizing that. We can do so much more than we think we can. I think as long as you desire the outcome and recognize the worth and value of the end goal, you can totally do whatever it is you have to face. In cancer, I know I want to live. I want to be a mom and a wife and enjoy this life on earth. That end goal is the most important to me. So I can endure all of the cancer treatments because I want to live.

I think the same applies to the rest of life. Whether it be finishing school, a personal best sports goal, starting a new job, moving somewhere new, whatever it is. When we desire something, we are totally capable of achieving it or facing it. No matter how hard. People tell me often how hard foster care and adoption would be for them. And it can be hard! But, to me, the value of it--caring for a precious child, giving them a chance at a healthy, productive life, and being a parent--is much more important than the fears and struggles of it. Because I desire to be a mom and to care for God's children, I can totally do it. I can do it even though it will be really, really hard. When we make up our minds to do something and we are motivated by the outcome, we can honestly do incredible things. Seriously, we can do so much more than we initially think we can.

Sometimes Heavenly Father needs us to step out of our comfort zones and choose to do hard things. Sometimes he allows hard things to happen to us. It's ok to face something hard. It's ok to be scared, worried, unprepared, and overwhelmed sometimes. Because the things we have to "fight" for are always some of the best.