We’ve gone through many steps and I haven’t written about all of them. Some it’s too soon, some it was too early on for me to wrap my head around, others I’m just not ready to sit and process right now. But I know that writing has helped me, to at the very least, not replay all of the words over and over throughout the days and nights. So here goes another post. Thanks for being here.
Last week Billy went back to work. I was scared. We’d been living in this bubble and that bubble was about to burst and with it possibly my heart, again. We had prepared for months and months before Huxley was born to be taking care of a newborn with two other small children and I’d prepared my heart, my energy, my strategy for getting snacks and meals on the table, all revolving around a new normal with an infant. But instead we are faced with a completely different new normal that is quite similar to our old routine. Two small children while Billy works and I tend to all things on the home front. That made me so nervous and sad. Not only that though, I was worried for what Billy’s heart and mind would go through being at work, away from us, possibly in a quiet office, or dealing with high task and time consuming projects while his mind was wanting to be elsewhere. Thankfully he chose not to fly his first week back because I would have been an even bigger nervous wreck thinking about him operating a plane in that mental state. I worried about Billy being at work and people who hadn’t heard asking “how’s the newborn” and him having to answer with the dreaded “we lost him” forcing their well intended kind and celebratory questions into mourning and awkwardness and unease.
Fortunately, we were recently introduced to some new friends who have walked a similar path to ours who have been an amazing source of comfort and wisdom for us and they were able to give us a few warnings and pointers and while you can never really be prepared for these conversations, we were aware they’d likely happen. And they did. And they will continue and that’s okay. We’re glad that people want to celebrate what should have been and we aren’t shy to answer questions. I like to talk about Huxley and really anything pregnancy and birth related to me or otherwise. But I especially love to share and talk about Huxley even if the questions are hard or awkward or personal or even make us sad. I don’t mind, really. But I worried for Billy having to go through it still.
I worried a lot for that first week back but I didn’t account for the fact that I still couldn’t lift Molly or even a jug of milk then and my mom and women from my church would be coming over daily to help me with the kids and around the house. Meaning I didn’t need to worry because I wouldn’t really be alone yet. I’m so grateful for everything they’ve all done. I’m grateful they had to be there to help me because I didn’t really have a chance to get too into my feelings and it kind of lightened the blow of that first week back. Crisis averted. Or actually, postponed.
This last Monday I was released to drive and lift the kids and physically do most things. I was passed the worry of the week prior but now was when I would actually be alone and going through it (with the big kids but still alone as an adult in my house where I be lost in my own thoughts). I was finally going to see what this new normal/old routine would look like. It wasn’t too bad at first. I mean, I sleep a lot and am unmotivated to do very much so we sit outside in the sun and the kids watch tv while I rest and do nothing but watch them be. We eat snacks instead of meals most days but it wasn’t too terrible. Not like I thought it would be… until Wednesday. We got a package from some work people Billy met on his last trip out of state and they sent a beautiful frozen meal from a company and everything looked amazing. I called Billy to tell him how kind it was and that he should message them a thank you for the wonderful meal (meals are hard for us to make still. It takes a little more brain and energy than I have right now) and that we were thankful for their thoughtfulness. After I got off the call I sat down next to Samuel who was building a Lego at the table where the package was and the dry ice that was in the box had a very distinct smell, it smelled like Huxley (or maybe his care cottage, which is basically a very cold bassinet for a recently passed infant or stillborn so that parents can be near their baby for up to 5 days after they pass). I associated that smell with Huxley. With loss. With the worst days of my life. It wrecked me. Dry ice shook me so hard that it spun into anger. I was so mad at God. I know God didn’t cause this. I know he didn’t will this. I know he weeps with us and for us and stores up every tear I’ve cried. But in that moment the only question I could sob was “but why did you LET it happen” I was angry and knew I needed to tell someone so I asked a handful of friends to pray. Each one of them did something different and each thing so necessary that I immediately felt seen and known and loved. That’s how God works. Even when we’re mad at him and pounding on his chest and screaming “why” at him he says “come to me” and he hugs us and he uses people to show His love. By the way, if you’re reading this and wondering why I didn’t message you for prayer… it’s probably because I thought I was going to see or talk to you that day at some point. Not that I need to excuse myself for who I message at any moment but some of the people I didn’t message are some of my closest friends and family. Idk God knew what I needed and who I needed to message and it worked out….
One friend immediately answered “I’m praying for you now”- I needed that. I needed to know someone was available to pray right then. Another called me after I’d gathered myself and she cried with me over the phone- I had told her earlier this month that I felt so bad for making others cry because of what we were going through and she said the most powerful words “it’s an honor to cry with you for Huxley” I needed that. Another sent her prayer in text- I needed that. I always love to see words and I needed to SEE hers. She said “I pray you feel seen” and “he knows you katina he knows every hair on your head” and she said “yeah, this sucks” and she validated me and my hard day. Another texted words of encouragement and truth of who God is and His promises for me. That’s the power of God y’all! Only He can do that. Later that day I had Bible study and I chose not to go. I took the kids to their church classes and decided I’d walk the beach until Billy could meet me after work. But last minute instead of going to the beach I got a strong hankering for a pink drink from Starbucks so I said you know what I’ll go there, sit outside where I can still see the water and read. After I sat down and opened my book someone drove through the drive thru and stared me down to the point of unease and then she rolled down her window and said “is your name Katina” why yes, it is and then her voice clicked in my head and I saw a sweet friend I haven’t seen in over a decade! She said “Katina, I’ve been wanting to give you a hug all week” and all I could mutter was “I could really use one right now” and she CRAWLED OVER THE RAILING …BAREFOOT and gave me a wonderful hug. She left and I cried sitting there until Billy met me and when I tell you God sees us, I mean it. He sees us in every day, in every emotion, in every way he knows our heart and what we need before we say a word. I know anger is a normal step through grief but I’m thankful for a short burst this time. I’m thankful to a God who isn’t letting me sit there too long. I know I’ll have more waves of anger but I will continue to ask for prayer, and seek Him in the midst of trial, through every step and every day my prayer is to know Him more.
Even Morse Sweetly 