Puddle

Okay, so remember when I said some days I feel more like a puddle than a person? Today was a puddle day--borderline pond day.

I’m not sure what came over me. At one point in the morning, as I was trying to bat back tears so that they didn’t destroy my mascara before my sister-in-law’s birthday party, I looked at Brian and said in a pathetic whimper, “I feel like I’m coming unglued!”

And I couldn’t seem to pull it together. The harder I tried, the worse my whole body ached, the worse the tears burned, the worse I felt emotionally. I was legitimately tired, sore, and disappointed, but as the one remaining rational piece of me hovered over the melting mess of the rest of me, it couldn’t seem to justify the volume of tears. I’m not hurting that bad. I shouldn’t be that tired. This cold will pass. My girls are fine. Brian is fine. Joel is fine. Is this hormones? Am I grieving? This almost feels like grieving. What on earth is wrong with me?!

It didn’t help my puddleness when I learned that a baby two beds down from my Joel in the NICU passed away a few days ago. I read in a blog post shared by a friend of mine about a month ago that “sometimes, God allows in His mercy what He could have prevented with His power.” The author of those words wasn’t saying that God causes tragedy, but she reminds us that His purposes are greater than our own and that mercy and happiness aren’t necessarily linked. The post stuck with me and has reminded me to try to think in terms of eternity. Still, I ache for that baby’s family. I pray that God’s hand is on them and that they can feel it.

Brian had the girls loaded in the car, and I had a grocery bag on my shoulder with the potato salad and cupcakes for the party when Brian looked at me with a mixture of bewilderment and pity and cautiously offered, “Why don’t you take a nap. Sleep, and if you wake up and feel better, you can join us.”

Accepting his suggestion made me cry harder. I knew I needed a nap, but I felt like a selfish brat missing the birthday party because I couldn’t stop blubbering.

So, with mascara long past “shot”, I crawled in bed. I pulled up a few Bible verses on my phone, offered up a rather meek prayer, and closed my eyes. I slept for over two hours.

When I woke up, I did feel some better, although I was still rather weepy. The tears really didn’t start drying up until close to 5:00 this evening. I cried less on bed rest and in the hospital with Joel than this, or at least it seemed.

What I am finding is that life in this twilight zone of our baby experience is, in many ways, harder than I expected it to be. Bed rest was hard, but I had a little companion who motivated me to stay down, press into Jesus, keep hope alive for us both. Joel’s birth experience was very hard, but the chaos of that whole event didn’t allow me much time for idle thoughts. Now, though, I am neither pregnant nor caring for the little life I have fought for. Life isn’t what it was before Joel was born, but it isn’t what it will be once he’s home, either. I am no longer on bed rest, but I haven’t rebounded from the deconditioning bed rest caused or the c-section delivery I went through 2 ½ weeks ago. I feel simultaneously robbed and blessed, heartbroken and praise-filled.

Regardless, I am waiting to see what Jesus holds for me in the middle of it all. He always shows up, and He always blows me away.

So far, as I have processed today, I have discovered that Jesus doesn’t mind me as a puddle as long as I don’t forget to seek His face through my tears. He is reminding me that He has been my strength all along and that He loves me and will take me in whatever form He finds me.

I write about this because I don’t want all these puddle moments to be lost. I don’t want to look back on this time in my life through a filtered lens that only remembers my confident moments, my dry eyes and emotional victories. I want to remember that Jesus was in the valleys, too.

Tonight, I am in far better spirits. A dear friend brought me encouragement and conversation along with soup and chocolate chip cookies. Kate made me laugh at supper when she was, at one point, more potato soup than toddler. (It wasn’t quite as funny when we tried to mop her off…) Anna reminded me that I am healing when she asked to look at my incision and then remarked with delight that it is just a tiny line now. Brian, ever level-headed, kissed me before he left for the hospital and sent me pictures of a sweetly sleeping baby Joel.

These verses from Psalm 40 are some of those I found earlier today. They seem worth sharing. God has heard me, He has steadied me, and what a blessing it would be if people would trust Him as a result of the things He is doing in this time in my life!

I waited patiently for the Lord to help me,

   and he turned to me and heard my cry.

2 He lifted me out of the pit of despair,

   out of the mud and the mire.

He set my feet on solid ground

   and steadied me as I walked along.

3 He has given me a new song to sing,

   a hymn of praise to our God.

Many will see what he has done and be amazed.

   They will put their trust in the Lord.