Ambushed

Apparently standing in the bridal party at a wedding rehearsal can be a trigger for an emotional break-down. Who knew?

Over all, I believe I'm doing very well in my grief experience. I'm thankful for the opportunity to share my journey with you all because it has been very healing for me and I can only hope that things I share can be very healing for you too.

Sometimes, even though I'm truly okay.. even though I have peace, I'll find that a certain thought, or item, comment, scent, etc. will serve as a trigger and I'll be ambushed by my emotions.

Yes, ambushed. I don't think there is a better word to describe it. It happened a few months ago during a trauma-focused cognitive behavioral therapy training. I had a mild ambush yesterday at walmart when I came across the bin of mini stockings... like the ones I'd purchased for the babies (the only thing I'd purchased for both babies, a couple of weeks before Carys' diagnosis). Tonight, I was ambushed again.

Usually, I'm more easily ambushed when I'm tired or stressed.... or tired and stressed. This past week has been chaotic, crazy, stressful, busy. I feel disorganized, worn down, and like Paxton is being neglected of his mommy's full attention. Yesterday he was even asleep before I made it home from work a little past 9:00. He's not been neglected, of course. He got to spend time with grandparents and his daddy... but I couldn't be with him like I wanted to be. After this week, I feel drained. Drained and susceptible to ambush.

That's how we all are, right? When we're stressed and worn down, we are more vulnerable. It's nature. It seems to be when satan fights the most too. The jabs. The fears. The doubts. The negative. He thrives on it all.

Yes, I have weak, human mommy moments when I ache for my girl. I found myself thinking about taking a yellow rose from the wedding tomorrow to her grave. That thought led to how little girls love weddings...which led to the thought that I won't get to see her as a flower girl, let alone a bride. <Enter embarrassing breakdown here.>

Regardless of my broken heart, I have peace and joy. I refuse to let the pain of missing my daughter rob me of the joy of knowing Heaven is for real and I will see her again. I will still praise my Heavenly Father and trust Him that He knows what He's doing. Trust is the antidote for anxiety, after all!

I remember writing at Easter the weekend after the babies were born about the disciples and their spirits being willing but their flesh being weak. We're human. We'll have the moments of weakness when we cry over things that won't matter in eternity. We'll have moments in our frailty when we are more susceptible to our jumbled up emotions. We may cry, we may scream, or we may act out our anger. Regardless of how I may feel like responding, I will continue to be grateful that Heaven is for Real, and grateful for God's amazing plans.

I look forward to Heaven, where my spirit can be willing and I won't have the weak flesh to hold me back. Frankly, I've cried enough tears for a lifetime. :)