I'm struggling today on what mourning looks like for me. Each and every day is so full of activity, noise, and urgent needs to be met. I find myself sad today in the fact that I desire to mourn the loss of my baby girl, but cannot find the time or the place. Quite frankly I just want everyone to leave me alone so I can cry and remember.
I desire to sit in quiet and think about Charlotte. I want to remember how her dark brown hair looked almost curly. It has me wondering if she would have had her big sister, Zoe's, curly hair. I want to remember how it felt to hold her as close to my chest as I possibly could.
I think about how we prepared for her arrival. How her dad and I went to JoAnn's to pick out fabric to make her a blanket with. I remember as we checked out the cashier, on seeing my bump and our fabric choices, said, "you must be having a girl." We were so proud. We both smiled hugely and answered, "yes!" I remembered working on her blanket at my sister's house in Michigan over Christmas break. I'm not the best sewer yet and I became frustrated easily. I saw the flaws all over the blanket, but I was proud I made it for her. I remember thinking and possibly even saying, "It's not perfect but she will know her momma loves her." After Charlotte was born, we wrapped her in that very same blanket as we held her close for those very short hours. The reality was very real as even her snuggly blanket and my arms couldn't make her warm. A few days later, I took that same blanket to the funeral home for them to wrap Charlotte in for her burial. In my head I was thinking, "to keep her warm." All the while knowing she isn't in her body. She is safe in the arms of Jesus, but it was in my motherly instincts to do all I knew how to care for her and protect her.
I wonder every day if the flurry of activity in my house is helping my hurt heal faster or if it is making me push the hurt deep down inside of me. I want to do this whole mourning thing right. I desire good to come from it. I know and trust that God has a plan through all of it. But tonight, I just want to cry.