The Toughest Week. Ever.

This has been the toughest week of my life.

It started with Sunday, July 1st, the day that my baby boy, Titus, was actually due to be born.

The middle of the week, Wednesday, July 4th, was our wedding anniversary.  14 years.

My baby boy is dead.

My husband moved out.

Needless to say, this was not a week of celebration.

The trouble with the pain of this week of grief is that it occurred later in the grieving cycle, so I did not have the benefit of shock or numbness to cushion the pain.  I went to new depths of darkness.  It was awful.  

This was one of those weeks when I felt as though I was walking through the valley of the shadow of death.....and God was walking right there with me.  Everyday, every time I turned around, I could see the hand of God in my life.  As much pain as I felt at the time, I still thought that was incredible.  I kept moving forward, one blessing at a time.

It did not help matters that I started off the week after a weekend of travel to visit family.  It was Jersey #4's turn to spend a week with my parents, so the kids and I took a quick overnight road trip to drop her off.  It is fun to visit Granny & PawPaw.  I actually got a good night's sleep, since I felt safe in my parent's home.  (I did not realize how poorly I was sleeping at home, being the only adult to protect the household now, until I rested so well at my parent's house).  

I also made a point to take the kids to visit my husband's grandma.  She had previously asked me to stop by and visit.  She wanted to see the kids.  She assured me that no matter what happened in my marriage, those kids were her great-grandchildren, and she welcomed us all as family.  I was glad to hear that.  I actually expected most relatives to react that way.  Unfortunately, I have been quite shocked at the hostility that has come my way, from my husband's family of origin.  His grandma confirmed the rumors and comments that I had heard so far, about what my mother-in-law and brothers-in-law think about me, and what they say about me.  For people who have never taken the time to get to know me, they certainly have a lot of negative to report.  It is sickening.

I spent the trip home pondering the comments and actions of my in-laws, over these last 6 months.  It was difficult to separate what was just them, versus how much my husband agreed with.  By the end of the trip, I was certain my husband felt just the same about me as they did.  I also pondered our deteriorating financial situation, and what options I have left.  I thought about the various advice that has been given to us.  It is incredible to me how the world wants to encourage families to break up, and husbands and wives to just cut their losses when they are unhappy, and pursue other relationships, revenge, legal battles, and alcohol-induced entertainment.  There are so few people who genuinely care about each of us individually, and our family as a whole, and actually want us to heal and mend and restore our family.  What an uphill battleground.

I woke up Sunday morning with the weight of the world on my shoulders.  There was no way I was going to win the battle that was taking place in my life.  I was too emotionally drained to take on the world.  Besides, my arms were empty, and the baby boy who I thought would bring me comfort during this battle, was gone.  I just could not see how I was going to fight another day.  It was Sunday morning, and I was suppose to get up and get myself and the kids ready for church.  I could not do it.  I could not face another face.  I had no social strength left.  The thought of talking to another person made me cry.  There was no way that I was going to be able to get through "hello," not to mention any other comment about how I was actually doing.  I could not even put into words what I was feeling, to explain it anyway.  Sunday morning is for worship.  I could not bring myself to go to church for worship.  I literally told God that I was a failure of a Christian, and could not even find the strength to worship Him.  I tried to get out of it.  I texted a friend to see if she could take my older kids to church, but she was not attending that day.  I did not have the strength to call anyone else.  I could not even speak to another person.  It was just too tough of a day, and I was too weak.

A friend was suppose to come over and try to fix my dryer in the afternoon.  I emailed him and cancelled.  There was no way I could handle a visit right now, even if it was a service to me.  I tried to see if the kids would consider skipping church.  They looked at me like I was crazy.  I have taught them well.  There was no good reason to miss church.  Of course, they wanted to go.  Who wouldn't want to go to church?  I laid out the plan that I would drive them to church, but that I needed a grieving day and could not go with them.  They accepted that.  They accept grieving.  Tears streamed down my face as I drove.  It was so painful to even be out in the world.  I wanted to be safe at home in my bed.  I managed to drop the kids off at church, and made it home with Jersey #5.  I told him he could play the Wii or watch a movie as much as he wanted.  He thought that was great.  I returned to my bed and cried some more.  

I prayed for peace.  I prayed for a solution.  I prayed for an end to my pain.  I prayed that God would help me figure out what to actually pray for, because I was so distraught I could not even figure out what my situation needed.  

I drove back to the church to pick up my kids, crying the whole way.  Geesh!  I never realized how difficult it was to go through the motions of life like that.  Driving took all of my remaining strength and focus.  The kids ran to the van right away, so I was able to return home without having to wave or speak to anyone.  When I got home, I went right to bed.  I was so exhausted from all of that crying and driving.  The kids knew their Dad was coming to pick them up.  I gave them instructions for lunch, and getting dressed for their visit.  

All of the convincing myself that my husband was of like mind to his family was immediately dissipated when he arrived at the door and inquired as to how I was doing.  It was obvious I was having a tough day.  The kids also shared that I was having a grieving day.  He could not mask his surprise when he heard I had not actually gone to church either.  He asked me what he could do for me, and what I needed.  He asked if I wanted to visit the cemetery.  I assured him and the kids that their plans to go swimming with their cousins was a good idea, and would give me a chance to rest and grieve without weighing them down.  I told the kids that I was just having a grieving day, and that I did not want them to worry about me, and I wanted them to go have fun.  They seemed to accept that explanation, and happily loaded up in their Daddy's truck.        

My husband took time to listen to the topics that were troubling me, and then gave me some wise advice.  He showed me a new perspective on how to view the way his family dislikes me.  He actually turned it into a positive thing.  He checked to make sure I had everything I needed for the afternoon.  Then, he surprised me by asking if I wanted to go out to dinner for our anniversary.  He said that 14 years of marriage, and 20 years together, is a long time.  He felt it should be commemorated in some way, similar to visit a cemetery on the anniversary of the death of a loved one.  The analogy made me laugh.  It is morbid, and doesn't usually relate to marriage.  But under the circumstances of this year, it seemed so fitting.  I told him that it was the thought that counted, and I was flattered that he had the thought in the first place.  I offered to find a babysitter.  Then, I reassured him that his taking the kids for the afternoon was a good thing, and I would use the time wisely to rest and get a grip on my emotions.  

It actually did me wonders to have a plan for our anniversary date.  I suspect that day would have been horrific if I did not have some way to commemorate it.  Titus' due date was tough enough on me, without a plan to commemorate it.

All afternoon, I napped.  And napped.  And napped.

I woke up and ate at snack, then napped some more.

I had a lot of exhaustion to release, mental exhaustion, physical exhaustion, and emotional exhaustion.

I finally woke up rested.  I had a new perspective on my pain.  I was going to take things one step at a time, attempting to keep moving forward each day.  I prayed every step of the way.