Sacred Silence ~ Journal Entry #3



Journal Entry #3

August 27th, 2013

I did something today I never thought I’d ever do. Leave the house with a smile on my face.

I couldn’t help it, nor could I hide it. The love of my two sisters and my mother had cradled me with grace this morning. Our very first stop was at the floral shop two blocks from our house to buy a bouquet of white lilies. Lilies for Zach. The four of us sat together, my mother Beatrice, my older sister Lainey and my baby sister Paula, arms around shoulders, and soft fingers wiping away tears as we reminisced about my son while sitting by his grave. The sun was hot, sweat running down my brow and it was only ten in the morning. A Texas summer for you…but I wouldn’t have traded that moment for the world. It was strangely comforting beyond measure.

It felt odd having to say goodbye, running my hands along the parched earth before bending over to kiss the ground I knew my son lay underneath. After leaving the cemetery, I honestly wanted to return home to my seclusion. I felt safest there. But my mother insisted on lunch and some time away. When my mother insisted things, you didn’t argue. A small part of me didn’t really want to. I wanted to feel the love that I knew had gone missing.

There was a quote I saw on a store window today in downtown Dallas.

“We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the life that is waiting for us.” – Joseph Campbell

I saw a future with Miles before we ever married. I saw a future when I found out I was pregnant. I saw a future when I learned that I would become a mother to a little boy. I saw a future when I let him go…and it was ugly.

Yet somehow I see a small measure of hope in my world. A blessed future. Life doesn’t end here. I will see my son again. Although he is absent from my arms, he is mine. I am a mother. My future consisted of me becoming a mom, and I am. Regardless of the heartache that longs to destroy me. My future has brought me here, and with my head held high, I have the right to grieve, but I also have the right to live. I will live for the memory of my son.

.. Alana

Copyright 2013

Written and owned by Valerie King at

Sacred Silence Novel ~ Journal Entry #2


Journal Entry #2

August 22nd, 2013

Miles woke me from a disoriented nap this afternoon. When I grabbed the phone, I realized I had been crying in my sleep. The tears…they never stopped. Zach has been gone a week today. Our conversation went something like this:

Miles – “Hey. Just thought I’d check in before my next meeting. Everything alright?”

The words had stung like a bee. Everything alright? No, not even close, so I had lied, choosing to avoid lighting an emotional wildfire.

Me – “Yeah, I’m fine. Just doing a few things around the house this afternoon.”

Miles – “Don’t overdo it, Alana. The doctor said for you to take it easy for the next few weeks. I agree with him.”

Me – “I know you do, but I can’t just sit around this place. The quiet is too much sometimes. I have to keep myself busy.”

He had sighed heavily at my reply. He did a lot of that lately. Sighing, like the thoughts in his head were too much for him to say aloud. Instead of letting pieces of himself go, he just buried them deeper, within a long drawn out frustrated sigh that he used to cover his brandished hurt. Miles had always been such a support to me, a man of great words, but his inner voice was missing. The man I knew and loved, was hiding within the shadows of his misery, alone. I wasn’t expecting an invitation for me to join him anytime soon.

Me – “Perhaps we can talk…”

Miles – “This is not the time nor the place for talking about this, Alana.”

Me – “I know, but when will it be time? We can’t let this just drift off into the distance; pretend that it never happened. It did, and I’m so afraid of moving on.”

The line grew quiet after that, and my question remained unanswered. Just like always.

Me – “I’m afraid of moving on without you, Miles.” Still silent. My throat burned badly as I tried hard to swallow the bile that had risen quickly from my empty stomach.

Miles – “You’re not moving on without me. We’re in this together. I’m just not ready to open up the wounds just yet. Please respect my wishes this once, Alana. That’s all I’m asking.”

And all I wanted was to find truth in his words. The words he refused to say aloud. The diversion between us opened up a little wider, as my heart grew a little weaker.

Miles – “Listen babe, I’ve got to get back to work. Hang in there, okay? I’m trying to do the same.”

Me – “I’m doing my best, Miles.”

Miles – “I know you are. Just take it easy. I love you.”

Taking a deep breath, and closing my eyes, I had said what any good wife should. “I love you too.”

So here I sit. Bent over, head aching with sheer force as it lay within the sweaty palm of my left hand as I write. This is so much more than losing Zach; this is the beginning of losing myself. Miles and I had been married for almost seven years, and what an amazing seven years it has been. Even through our struggle with infertility, the two of us stuck together, hand in hand through every test, procedure, poke, prod and agonizing wait for test results, without fail. After losing Zach last week, I feel my hand slipping slowly from within my husband’s. The reason for our bout with infertility was because of me, and the loss of our miracle baby…was also because of me. I couldn’t give my husband what he wanted more than anything; a child. A child that he could love, lead and cherish until his dying breath.

My gift, my everything, stolen.

.. Alana

Copyright 2013

Written and owned by Valerie King at