I'm So Glad It Wasn't Me...

Do you ever feel that way?

When you hear terrible news, do you ever think, "Whew, I'm so glad that's not me/my family/my child."

I have.

And I'm not one bit proud of it.

But, I can't say that I think that way anymore. My perspective has changed. Now I think, "That so easily could be me/my family/my child."

We are not immune to tragedy, hurt and heartache. No one. Not even Christians. Everyone will have a "cross to bear", a burden or trial at some point, or several points, in their lives. I just pray that when your time comes, you have the cross and know the One who died on it for us, so that you can lean on Him and the hope He gives to carry us through.

I seriously don't know where I would be today without my faith and trust in my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ!

Moving on...

There are advantages and disadvantages to living in a small town. I am by NO means "popular". But, I've met a lot of people since moving here 3 1/2 years ago.

If I've ever wanted people to gossip, it was after Grady died. I know that sounds crazy. I know people have way better and much more interesting things to talk about than me. But I wanted to avoid the oh-so-painful question of "How's the baby?"

I know people were talking. And I'm glad because I know I would have been asked much more than I was. I remember each person who asked... Where I was... How I answered...

Everyone knew I was pregnant. Everyone was anxiously awaiting Grady's birth, just like us. Even the employees at Kroger...

For the longest time, I felt like I wore a sign on my head or my back that said, "My Baby Died".

Like the first time I went to Emma Grace's school after Grady died. It was for her Thanksgiving Feast. I walked in and felt all eyes turn to me. My sweet friend Nicole had gone with me so I wouldn't be alone. But, I tried not to make eye contact with anyone because I was fighting back tears. People either avoided me or tackled the topic outright. One sweet friend just came to me and said, "Can I just give you a hug?" Yes. Hugs are always great. Thank you, Rhonda.

Last week at Muffins For Mom, especially on Friday when it was 5th grade morning (Jessica's grade), I felt like I was wearing the "My Baby Died" sign and people were talking again. Probably not. But I had that feeling.

Everywhere I turned, there was either a newborn, an older baby, or someone who had recently had a baby. I felt like they were thinking, "I'm so glad that what happened to her didn't happen to me." "I'm so glad my baby lived and didn't die like hers did." I also felt like others were sitting at their tables saying, "Yeah. See the lady at the drink table in the pink shirt. Her baby died."

Again, let me be clear. I'm NOT trying to say, in any way, that people sit around and talk about me. I'm sure some have and maybe some still do.

So be it.

But I KNOW there are better things to talk about than me.

However, my mind was going crazy. Maybe it was insecurity. Maybe it was paranoia.

Maybe it's just utter grief that I'm still working through.

Wishing it wasn't me.

Wishing babies didn't have to die and none would again.

Ever.

But that's not reality.

We live in a fallen world. A world of sin and hurt.

Somewhere tonight, right now, someone has probably just been told their baby has no heartbeat.

Stillborn...

Have I told you how I hate that word?

I wish I was there to hold their hand.

Just to be there.

And stress how important and short the time is with their baby.

Instead, I'll just pray for them. And ask God to comfort them in ways that only He can. I'll ask Him to guide them and bring wonderfully compassionate and caring people in their path to help them along the most painful time of their life.

Love,
Tonya