In the Quiet Times...

Last night I couldn't get to sleep. It's not uncommon these days as the night comes and everything goes quiet. The stillness of the night draws my mind to the stillness in my womb. I can't distract myself with housework, or parenting, or conversations with Andrew about the business. No, in this quiet time I think about my babies. I ache for them and cry big tears. My mind jumps from one thought to another from how many weeks I would have been, to how I shouldn't be able to sleep on my stomach anymore,  to what will we do with our crib when Julianne needs a big girl bed. The thoughts can linger for hours until my body finally succumbs to exhaustion.

I've been told by several people how well I seem to be doing. How it must be getting easier for me. I seem more "myself". They aren't wrong, time has eased some of the intensity of my heart ache. I am not debilitated by it as I one was. However, the pain is always there. It's chronic and I've just learned how to live with it better. The reality I am not pregnant and we aren't bringing a baby home this summer is normal now rather than unbelievable. It's almost more lonely in this stage. In the beginning I knew other people were crying too, grieving with me. As time has passes though, I often feel like the only one shedding tears still. I suppose that's my privilege as their mother. I am the one who should continue to miss them, mourn them.

I imagine the difficult quiet times will get fewer and further between. God meets me there and knows my pain. I think of Jesus during his quiet time in the garden. When all his friends went to sleep and he was left to carry the burden alone. How he sweat blood and grieved over what he was about to endure. He knows my suffering. I am thankful he doesn't sleep while I mourn. He is there in the quiet times.