Psalm 23:1-5 The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of rightesouness for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You annoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Sometimes, my life races at record speeds. I have trouble slowing down at times to catch my breath and keep things organized. I just run in thousands of directions forgetting where I really intended to end up when I started in each different direction, feeling a little lost looking for the right path at times.
Today, I am finally slowing down, and getting back on the trail. I have been wanting to write many times in the past couple of months, but I haven't taken the time to sit down and get my thoughts out. Sometimes I do this when I get too busy, over committed. I have noticed I also do this when I struggle. Sometimes I disappear from the world a bit when feeling sad or confused, when really these are the times when I need my friends, my family, and the rest of the world the most.
The New Year started out pretty great for us! I was running lots of miles, completed a half marathon in February, and had a great trip with Ted & friends in Austin. We completed another year of marriage, 8 years to be exact! We have also had many other great times with friends and family. But, as spring has come, I have struggled more than I had expected. Spring is typically my favorite time of year. I love running in the spring time, seeing the leaves bursting in green up in the trees, watching as all the flowers bloom and paint a beautiful pastel of landscape and color, and feeling the crisp cool breeze. I also really love when the days grow longer. I am a sunshine girl who tries to keep a sunshine kind of smile, so I just really like the spring and the coming of more sunshine.
This year, the springtime has been great for me in many ways. I am feeling more in "great" shape again and really love getting out and running as much as possible these days (and thanks to a couple friends, I am running more than ever logging all kinds of miles. I am just as crazy as ever, at 55 miles for the week, but still way behind my crazy friend Andrea :)
At the same time, I didn't anticipate the sad feelings and difficult emotions that would overwhelm me at times with the coming of this spring. I guess as we approach the first anniversary and birth/loss of Lily, the grief is definitely coming back to the surface a bit. I can't believe it has already been almost an entire year since we lost Lily and delivered her on April 29th, 2010.
I have had some really tough days again. Days where I analyze the whole last year, and at times just feel so sad, that we lost Lily, and still don't know for sure when the day will come that we might have a baby here on earth with us. I also find that I get disappointed realizing I had these set expectations of things that would surely happen by the time a whole year had passed, and a bit of disappointment realizing that some are far from where I thought they might be. Other times, I see my patients or what others around me are facing, and I am at peace, I know that I have alot to be thankful for, even without a child of my own to raise on earth. I often just feel a bit of confusion, trying to ask God, what it is he really wants for us, what our plan is, feeling a bit lost out on the Path, trying to see where he is leading me, looking for a light up ahead, or for a bright shining "headlamp" to drop from above to lead me on my way!
Last Friday, we had a beautiful Dedication Service for Lily at Presbyterian Hospital, and it was so helpful for me. We are so blessed that there is a now a plaque in the Margot Perot building honoring her, a bassinet in her memory for other families to use, as well as a brick that has been placed in front of our church in her memory. I think in terms of tangible memories, we are very blessed to have all of these reminders of our baby. I hope that other families may be comforted when they are faced with similar tragic situations, knowing others have survived the journey, and that our babies are not forgotten, that they are not alone.
I am sometimes a worrier about figuring out the right way to do this or that, and it has been good for me to try to let this go throughout this process. Stillbirth is not common enough for there to be a set of proper "etiquette" or standards. You really have to make your own path, and find your own way of deciding how to remember your baby and how to live out your own individual grief. For the longest time this was so hard for me. I wanted someone to tell me the "right" way to do things and the "proper" way to "most efficiently" grieve. As an athlete, I wanted to conquer it, and get to the finish as soon as possible some days. But, I have found, that this grief is much more complicated and confusing than the process of running straight even for 26 miles or clocking 140 miles in an Ironman, reaching the finish, getting your medal, and basking in the glory of completion in the journey to your ultimate goal.
Unfortunately this simply was not possible with grief over Lily. And, over time I have tried to let these worries go. Grief is not a steady mountain to climb, it is not a set cycle to determine or predict. 
It is always changing as you go, and some days you just have to allow it to be what it is. Whether you find yourself deep in a valley with seemingly no way to climb to the top one day, or the very next day filled with complete peace and serenity, as if sitting still overlooking the glorious ocean understanding more deeply the meaning and preciousness of life.
It is always changing as you go, and some days you just have to allow it to be what it is. Whether you find yourself deep in a valley with seemingly no way to climb to the top one day, or the very next day filled with complete peace and serenity, as if sitting still overlooking the glorious ocean understanding more deeply the meaning and preciousness of life. In the past few weeks, I have really struggled at times. Last night I had this mix of emotions overwhelm me, but also a burst of pure joy. I had just returned from a late evening jog and chat with a friend, and in the dark, I noticed a slight bit of red popping out of our rose bush on the side of the house. I was so excited, I couldn't believe my eyes!! Our good friends gave us this rosebush, and we planted it right after we lost Lily. I first had a thought of relief thinking, "Oh wow, it is coming back into bloom, I didn't kill it in the past year!!" I also noticed, that not only did the rosebush bloom a beautiful flower, but that I had almost missed the flower entirely, as it is already starting to wilt a bit. It was still so beautiful to me, knowing today we would begin April possibly reliving some of the pain that we endured last April.
Most of all, I was so incredibly filled with joy that we already had a beautiful flower in her honor and that many more will likely come to follow to brighten my way through spring. I did feel disappointed in myself a little. I have been pretty busy with work, teaching a class, running around doing a million things, that I almost missed the bright life of this sweet flower. How could I let life escape me so much, to have almost missed such a blessing?? We really must take time to truly "stop and smell the roses," because we never know when they might be gone or wilted away. So, even though I am sad to admit that I missed the first few days of beautiful glory for this sweet rose, it truly brings joy to my heart that I have the blessing of its life and color in memory of Little Lily to soothe my soul. I pray for many more to come and bloom to brighten the days as we move along this journey through April.
May we remember our sweet baby girl, and trust God to comfort our sorrows and bring joy and glimmers of his true light to guide us on the winding path that lies ahead.
