Easter Without My Baby

Sometimes I fight with myself about whether I should write about a particular issue or not. I had talked myself out of writing about Easter without my baby, until I read my friend's post about her broken Easter. Her honesty inspired me to be honest too, so here it goes...

This Easter sucked.
Big time.

And I feel like a bad Christian for even thinking it, yet alone saying it.

Easter is a time when Christians focus on the death and resurrection of Jesus. It's always there in the back of our minds, songs and sermons, after all, it's the event our faith is based on, but at Easter it becomes front and centre. Rightly so! I think it is wonderful that it makes us think more purposefully about such an important event. Last year, all I could focus on at Easter was Mary and how she had to watch her firstborn die. This year, my focus could not get away from the little sayings people use:

The day death died.

O death, where is your sting?

Death has been defeated.

Etc, etc.

I know that people have been using little phrases like that since, well, probably forever. And one of those sayings is a Bible verse, so I'm not against them entirely. But this Easter, it didn't seem to me that "death had died" or that death was in any way defeated. Because on the way to church on Sunday, we stopped in at the cemetery where my firstborn is buried. That is where death's sting is.

Death to me is not dead.

I see it when I look at my daughter's photos - the only photos I will ever have of her.

I am reminded of it when I look in my car's back seat and see only one car seat, not two.

I feel its power when the ache in my heart comes out in my tears.

Death to me is not defeated.

The Christian faith is about more than little statements or catchy phrases we use to summerise the most significant event in history. I know that. And I do believe that one day I will see Ariella in Heaven, alive. I believe that one day there will not be any death, pain or suffering. But right now there is. And as a result, Easter without my baby was just too hard.

Someone Remembered Her

I was up late a few nights ago and it got me thinking...

It's late. My son is sleeping peacefully in his cot and my husband is asleep beside me. The late hour means that is dark, and something about the darkness and being the sole person awake makes me feel reflective. I feel like I should be sad that my daughter died, normally that is how I feel. But I cannot feel that sadness because today is different.

Today, someone remembered her.

Today, someone bought me an Easter egg for each of my babies; one blue, one pink. Of course, neither baby is able to eat their egg. That job falls to me and my husband (what a shame). But that doesn't matter. What matters is that someone not only remembered, but also included, Ariella today. 

Because of that simple gesture today, I can sleep peacefully tonight. Because of that pink Easter egg, I'm going to sleep with a smile on my face. 

TGP: Mums group in the park

Today I'm grateful for the mum's group I went to this morning. We met in the park next to this (mostly dry) creek. Not a great photo to represent this, but I only thought to take a photo after putting Levi in the car, so my options were limited! A friend invited me along last week and I felt very welcomed into the group. Today was my second time attending, and it was an interesting morning! My poor son was not very happy as he didn't get enough sleep for his morning nap. This led to him crying for a large chunk of the morning, which always is a struggle for me. I know it's not logical, but this is what goes through my mind when Levi is really upset:

Nothing I can do is making him happy or calm. I am failing my son. Failure. I failed Ariella. I couldn't keep her alive.

And then I cry. It's a battle to stay composed, especially in front of a group of people; I didn't want to cry and look silly. But as the tears began to fall, they were met with offers of help, words of encouragement, prayer and a hug. I didn't feel silly for crying, I felt normal. It's hard to know how many of my struggles are because Ariella died and what is "normal" for any parent. I think that most of the time, it is both. But today, I actually felt normal. That doesn't happen all that often. 

So ladies, I doubt that many of you will see this. But for those who do - I am very grateful for all of you. Thank you for your help, patience and encouragement this morning, it meant more than you will ever know.

TGP: The mobile above the change table

Today I'm thankful for the mobile above my son's change table. It makes him so happy when he looks at it! Even if he's really upset, glimpsing this mobile is enough to make him stop crying and even giggle sometimes. There have been multiple times when I've taken him to look at it just to calm him down. 

What are you grateful for today?