An angry sorrow.

Yesterday was a difficult and beautiful day. A gentle slow dance between joy and sorrow. We were surrounded by our family on both sides at my moms. We planted a weeping red bud tree in Corbyn's honor. The kids blew bubbles, we prayed and thanked God for her short but meaningful life. We played worship music, and as a family we wept. Wept for the loss of the life that should have been. Possibly the hardest part was when my sister showed the pictures of Corbyn to my nephews. She told them "This is your baby cousin Corbyn. Shes sitting on Jesus' lap and someday you will all get to play together in heaven." I can't help but to wonder why. Was it that the timing was not right for us to have another child? He says he will never give us more than we can handle. Was I not strong enough to handle whatever her life would have brought? Which makes me feel like a failure that I could not handle whatever the Lord brought our way thru Corbyn. The moments were precious surrounded by the ones we love most. I felt blessed by their presence and yet all morning I could hardly hold myself together. I cried the whole time leading up to the event. I tried to manage everyone else around us, would they think this was strange to hold a memorial for a life that never was? I was thankful that once it began I felt nothing but love and support by the tears and sweet words of encouragement. My mom bought me a book written by a Christian woman who is married to the lead singer of the group Selah. Ironically, several people have emailed me to listen to their songs. Now I know why. They received the devastating news at 18 weeks that their daughter was "not compatible with life." They were told she would only live a few minutes after delivery. She describes the sweet moments of life, feeling her daughter move inside of her. How she soaked up every minute she could with her precious daughter Audry alive and healthy in her womb. How God used her story to reach so many. Today I reached the anger part of the grieving phase. Angry that so many loving families out there go thru the devastation of these situations, and how many terrible women out there who don't even want those kids keep popping them out. I have wrestled within trying to understand why? I have exhausted myself. I will never understand until I am in heaven holding my daughter. Phil said today "For the first time I feel true excitement about going to heaven someday. Until now, it has been such a far off unknown place, but now I know what is waiting for me and I can't wait to have her." I go back to work on Tuesday. I cant help but worry a little as I see my clients if I will be able to hold it together, or if they will ask why my baby bump is no longer there. Tomorrow is my follow up with my OB. I dread having to walk back into that office. Braxton is still asking to kiss the baby in my tummy every morning. And when Kinzley sees me crying she asks if I am sad because baby Corbyn went to be with Jesus. I worry that it will make her feel like she is not enough reason for me to have joy since I keep crying over the sister she will never know. I wonder when the tears will stop. When life will feel like its back to "normal." I want the anger to go. I want the sweet joy of knowing she is dancing the streets of heaven with our King, instead of selfishly wanting her here. I'm hoping this phase will pass quickly. I'm feeling the need to manage how long is an appropriate amount of time to grieve this kind of a loss...? Society says these things happen everyday and its time to move on asap. And yet, trying to explain that to the broken pieces of my heart are a whole other story. In my quiet times with the Lord I keep coming back to the realization that he is weeping the tears along with me. That his heart is breaking for the brokenness that has found its way to my heart. I know his healing will come and he will use this to shape and direct me. But I'm just not quite ready to get up and run the race just yet.