What a Nightmare.
I’ve heard those words over and over again since May. From friends, family, doctors, people who asked about my tattoos.
And it stings.
And it’s true.
And those words I fight against so hard come falling out of my mouth at times when I don’t know what else to say.
“It’s only one baby, thank goodness. Such a nightmare that was.”
But it wasn’t. I feel guilty for even letting someone say it without correcting them. I feel terrible for saying it myself.
I’m torn as to what to really say. Because most of it? Most of that week was horrible. The moments of fear and being treated poorly have lingered with me, haunted my dreams, for almost 9 months now.
Letting the words “nightmare” be said – it’s like their little lives on earth are broken down into just a mess. To me anyway. I feel the same way as if Bella were taken and everyone told me that her past 3 years were a nightmare because she’s gone now, or because of the way it happened. No one would say that, but there are very little other words to explain what we went through for people. To sum it up quickly, it’s easier to all agree it was a disaster and thank goodness it’s over.
My heart aches with this thought. I picture them cradled in my arms and I can’t even think, “Thank goodness.” I just think, “I’m so glad they were mine on earth for a little while.”
It isn’t meant unkindly. At all. If anything, the words from others come with a sort of understanding, a justification that what I endured really was horrible. It’s meant that way and taken that way, in a small part it helps me to heal when someone acknowledges again that yes, it was awful and yes, we are so sorry.
And then I want to tell them how incredible it was too. How not many of us get a pregnancy with two. How special those nearly 20 weeks were with them, how the moments I had them were filled with peace and awe at what God had created and was taking home. How they changed my entire life, my perspective on being a mother, wife, person, child of Jesus. How they rocked my world to the core and how I’ll never, ever forget them. How they made heaven a place I will look forward to when the time comes instead of somewhere I’m afraid to go.
Grief and loss are hard to put into words. Hard to fit that into a few seconds space while people are passing by or busy. It’s hard to have someone comprehend what really happened if they only just understand it was a nightmare. That’s what our society treats it as, and it’s so hard for any of us to see it another way.
So yes. Parts of it were nightmarish. Horrible. Memories that hit me so hard it still causes me to catch my breath in pain. And yet overall, it was such a beautiful time in my life. Such a blessing to have that memory. Their perfection, God’s plan through it all, trumps the nightmare.