Heavy

A friend of mine said to me the other day, "hang in there, life won't always be this heavy".  That really stuck with me for some reason.  "Heavy" is a great description of how grief makes me feel and how our hearts feel each day.  Everything is just so heavy, the joy is gone, although I pray one day it will come back.  I think about how I felt on the days leading up to Polly's birth.  The weekend before I admit that I didn't even have her room complete.  I just had been so busy getting everything to the house that we needed and taking care of everything at work in preparation for my leave, that I hadn't put anything together.  I felt like a bad mother.  I slept in that Saturday, exhausted from the busy week of "preparing" and as I sat in the den eating a bowl of cereal wondering how I was going to complete everything in 48 hours, there was a knock at the door.  Whit's brother and sister-in-law had stopped by to see how we were and were offering to help do anything we needed.  I don't think they were prepared for all that had to be done.  For the rest of the day, and I mean until after dark, we all washed clothes, put together toys and such, and chatted with excitement about our futures being parents.  My sister-in-law at the time was 6 months pregnant.  I imagined returning the favor when it was their turn to met their blessing.  I wish I could go back to those days, back when things weren't so heavy and sad.  I wish I could go back to October 10th, when I was done with all of my preparing and we just waited for the doctor's appointment to see if I would be going to the hospital that day or the next.  I thought the labor and emotions were going to be the toughest part of this, but I was so wrong.  When we returned from Augusta, all of Polly's things were as they had been on October 10th, all brand new and ready to be used.  All I took with me was my diaper back and her carseat.  I remember telling my mom to grab it when we stopped by the house after I was discharged, thinking in my cloudy, medicated mind that we would need that for when she came home in a few days/weeks.  I never thought she would not use it.  It was too unreal to think of.  Too terrible of a thought to imagine.  Her room is still the same.  We can't seem to pack anything away, even her name is still on the wall.  I had 2 projects I wanted to do, because for some reason I felt like as her mom I had to make something to contribute to her nursery.  I still have all the materials and might make the little mobile and memory board I had been planning on making, but for now the materials sit in her room with all of her other unused items.  So I pray my friend is right, that life for our family won't always be this heavy.  That I won't always have to fight back tears when I see a pregnant woman or a new baby in its carseat or see a baby playing with a toy that I have but she never used.  Or that I will one day be able to feel the joy that I felt for that split second right after she was born, when I thought everything was ok and she was safe, that joy that only your child can bring into your heart.  I know I am a different person, I know I can't go back to being what we like to describe as "blissfully unaware", so for now I struggle to handle the heavy in my life.  And pray that with God's arms around us, that one day joyous days will out number the heavy ones.