Grieving

I am truly overwhelmed with the kindness and grace we have received from so many of you. I cried as I read each of your sweet comments. Thank you for being a wonderful network of support and love to our family in this difficult time.

 Grief is a tricky thing. 

There isn't a manual for it. The "five stages" can happen all at once. 

This last week, full of grief and heartache, has been a complete blur, but one day sticks out to me the most - Thursday.

 Thursday was the hardest day. 

Monday was shock. Tuesday was a day of action and waiting. Wednesday was resolution and closure.

But Thursday? It was the hardest.  It was the day we let the world know what happened. 

I worked from home on Thursday.  In between meetings I drafted my blog post, my status update for Facebook, the email to my co-workers. I waited until 5pm and with shaking hands I hit submit/send.

Then I sat at my dining room table and sobbed for thirty minutes.

The replies and comments started to pour in immediately. I read them. I sobbed some more. It all felt so final in that moment. It was over. We were not going to be parents of that little boy.

Over the weekend, I cried. I stared off into space for an hour. I read blogs and magazines. I cried with my husband. Then I cried with my friends. I vented to my family and my best friend. I wrote some blog posts. I went shopping with a friend. I wrote an incredibly cathartic angry letter to the woman we thought would place her child with us. I drank coffee and hung out in my pajamas. I went to a friend's wedding, where I cried as she exchanged her vows with her new husband. I hugged people. I cried some more.

And this morning I decided that I needed a day off from weeping. I read my bible. I tried to pray. I took a shower and did my hair and makeup and put on real clothes. 

I don't know how we do it, but humans have a great capacity for surviving tragedy. I am not any where close to being recovered, or healed, or over this awful situation we are in, but I know one day I'll wake up and feel different. I'll feel hopeful.

I'm looking forward to that day.