Wednesday, February 22, 2012

PYHO - Grief

One continuous yellow line. Mile after mile marked along the side of the road. The sky was blue with only one lonely cloud. My mind retraces the day. I stepped out of my comfort zone. Expressed some true feelings and desires about my career to someone I respect. My shoulders relaxed and my neck lacked the tension it was getting used to. It was a good day. A slight smile on my face. The radio humming mindlessly in the background of my thoughts.

My mind flashed to a small OR prep room. I was there lying in the bed. My body covered with the recycled gown. The room was dimly lit in the early morning. My mom was there, Dale at my side. There was nervous conversation about the plans for the day. Worry in their eyes. Assurance that this was ok in mine.

My stomach pooched days before. Those early signs of our dreams reaching a new level. The room was cleared. Kisses to my head and reassuring touches to my hand.

I laid there trying to calm my shaking body. Trying to muster up a nervous smile to the doctor I have trusted as her face appeared above my toes. She shared the care in her eyes and in her hand as she rubbed my leg telling me she would see me in a few minutes. She left my vision. The nurse went through her preparation and my eyes searched the ceiling. The tears had arrived and left a path down my cheek and puddled in my ear. “I’m sorry. I thought I was over this. I thought I dealt with it.” She handed me a tissue. She didn’t speak a word and just held onto my hand as her hand comforted my arm. That’s all I needed. I didn’t need a talk. I didn’t need a hug. I needed time and comfort in this perfect way.

My eyes refocused on that yellow line, the different cars in my rear view mirror. The tears were now in my eyes and the grip I felt in my core.


You don’t know when it is coming. You don’t know what it is going to do. You just hold on tight and know for some reason your mind needed the reminder. It hurts. So many different ways, it hurts. Like peeling the scab too soon from that wound no matter how long you gave yourself to heal.

I finished my drive home remembering that Friday like it was yesterday. Remembering at the time that losing a baby shattered my life and erased any thoughts of control I had in my mind. There were no answers. There was no comfort. Why the grief, why right now? Why on a seemingly good day? I don’t know. The grief is there like that continuous yellow line. Sometimes it fades away completely. Sometimes it is there showing its face in the miles we travel in our lives.

Minutes later I received a phone call. Wyatt was on the other end wondering where I was and just like that my day was brightened a little bit more. Waylon took the phone and instantly I couldn’t get over how big he sounded. This is my life. This is my joy. These are the things I was not in control of but were delivered by God in His time. Grief comes and grief goes. I’m reminded again and again. I’m thankful for the reminders and thankful for the reality and the ability to be a stronger me because of them.


  1. Wow. Powerful post. Your writing is engaging and beautiful. I'm sorry for your loss- I can certainly relate to your words, but you're right... grief comes and then goes. And it is trials such as this that do make us stronger...

    Hugs my friend!

  2. Your words are achingly beautiful and wonderful.

  3. I'm so sorry for your loss. So glad that you have your boys to remind you of the good you have.



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