recognizing the loss


I have a tendency not to let myself feel things.

I'm sure it has something to do with my independent, controlling personality. It isn't safe to feel things out loud...sadness, grief, anger, disappointment...they might be human emotions but they're messy, and wild, and unpredictable. You can't control unpredictable. And what do those feelings say about your independence? You can handle this. You can do this on your own. Don't falter. Everything is okay. 

I will honestly not pray about something because my thought process convinces me that it's wrong to pray about my little things when people have way bigger things. I realize how silly that is, I really do, but that's just me. 

So, on Wednesday night, when I had a complete break down and sobbed to Cody about how I didn't know why I'd felt so unmotivated, so down, so sad, so mean, so impatient...he quietly listened. I don't open up like that often. He wouldn't call it an emotional breakdown as I did, instead he'd call it the opening of a very large, very secure gate. He'd confessed that he'd thought I'd been showing signs of being depressed for the past month or so. 

I immediately jumped to defense -- "I'm pregnant! I'm allowed to be emotional and tired! Plus, what is there to be upset about? I have everything I could ever want or need."

"You lost a child, Carly. A child you had hoped for for a year. A child you had prayed for for a year. A child you had planned for for a year. And he ISN'T here. That's something to be upset about." 

So, there it was...awkwardly hanging in the room. My first instinct was (and still kind of is) to say I didn't lose a child. People have it worse than me. People have babies born into hospitals that they never get to take home. People have adopted children in Congo (it feels weird to officially share the country now, but there it is) and all over the world and they don't get to bring them home. 

That's my M.O. To compare sufferings. But suffering isn't a comparative game. Mourning isn't a comparative game. As a friend put it to me... "If you compare your sufferings to everyone else's, you'll never feel justified or 'worthy' to suffer." And isn't that the truth?

And here I am, unsure of why I'm sharing this. I think it'll be healing for me and possibly for someone else reading it. I'm sad, but hopeful for what the Lord has planned. I'm completely sure of our decision, but that doesn't make it easy. And that's the will of God isn't it? We aren't promised easy, or safe, or logical...but we are promised a guide and a Father who ordains it all.

I promised I'd write about this adoption journey with honesty. And for the first chunk of it, it was really as easy going as I made it seem to be. The Lord moved, funds were raised, paperwork was filed. But, this is where we are now and where my heart is now. 

I am so hopeful for the child we will bring home. Cody told me he truly believes that our child will do something great and Satan will thwart those plans in whatever way he can. And I believe those things too. I believe the story isn't over yet. 

But, I really miss my Congolese little boy. The thought of him. The idea I had of him. The plans I had for him. And that suffering is allowed too.