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When band aids don't work

It’s right when you feel like you have things all figured out and you’re holding it all together so well, that it just may be about time for a break down.

Here is my current life status: holding on by a thread… except not showing it at all. In the world of grief this can be seen as a huge WIN! You’re a mess, but no one would guess it. You are falling apart, but no one knows. Fake it until you make it.

I just recently had a sweet baby girl and I really wanted to write all about that and how amazing it has been, because in so many ways it HAS been amazing. But it’s also been very VERY hard. Greif plus postpartum is rough. And while I absolutely adore my new baby, bringing her in to this world has caused my emotions and grief to intensify like never before. And for a while there, I tried desperately to put a band aid on it all.

Which reminded me of Hunter in the hospital. Before Hunter got sick, he loved getting cool band aids at doctor’s appointments. Or if he would fall and get a boo-boo, a simple paw patrol band aid could fix it all. But once he got cancer, he was dealing with some pretty big boo-boos. And when he was offered a fun band aid to help in any way, he became less and less interested. Like he knew that the situation happening, could not be fixed by a band aid.

I started to realize too, that what I was currently going through, the band aid could no longer hold. The stickiness was wearing off on the sides, and the blood was soaking through. My emotions and pain were oozing out of the wound and I knew it would all fall apart soon.

Fake it till you make it, aka my band aid was no longer holding.

I pride myself on being able to notice these break downs sooner than I ever imagined I would. But now having a brand-new baby, I wasn’t sure what to expect. The exhaustion that comes with a newborn, the duties of being a mother to Chase, and the pressure to just exist in society all while being the angriest with God I have been in a long time, was so new. I would wake with Jolie in the middle of the night, feeding her and sobbing at the same time because I felt like God had gifted me this amazing little baby but saw me as and unfit mother just 10 months earlier when he took my baby boy. I was struggling with mixed emotions on who he was to me because I yet again, couldn’t understand his ways. All things I am still currently working through.

I could feel myself being brought to the surface of something, but I wanted to fight it, because I didn’t want the world to know I wasn’t okay. I want to be viewed with strength and if I fall apart, I’ll just look weak. WRONG. I think I’ve found myself in this lie a few times now since losing Hunter. Because I have been concentrating so much on working through my grief, I get to certain points or milestones I guess you could say, where I feel like I am doing really well. And if I fall down and get lost at any point in there, I feel like I have failed.

Grief isn’t just one flat road traveled, point A to point B. There are going to be many hills and valleys, often pit stops and break downs. And every time we stop, even for a minute because we’re completely lost, that IS NOT a failure. We are NOT weak. Our road is HARD. Heck, our journeys through grief often hold the most amount of pain imaginable on this earth. As I get angry with God and have these incredibly hard conversations with him about what he’s doing in my life, I try to imagine he’s just happy sometimes I am still talking to him about it all. That I still remember he’s in control of my life and I know that and believe it. I don’t think God expects me to pray joyfully every night and morning with a smile on my face, especially through the trials he’s called me to.

We are supposed to break. Because when I have broken down, I am reminded that I have already made the choice to rebuild by acknowledging a stumble or a fall. Sometimes strength looks incredibly heroic. And sometimes strength looks like me right now…. Just knowing it’s okay, even when it’s not okay.

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