Sacred Silence ~ Journal Entry #5

BookSacredSilence

 

Journal Entry #5

September 3rd, 2013

Miles and I had lunch today at our favorite deli. I felt peaceful and at ease for once until I saw a woman across the aisle from us nursing her newborn son, the back of his head laced with brown fuzz, his tiny hand nuzzled against the bosom of his mother’s breast. He looked just like Zach.

Miles had caught me staring. He turned to look at what had captured my attention. The lunch conversation we had been sharing grew silent. I finished my salad with two final bites, leaving my plate almost half full. Hunger fled.

He reached across the table as I fought back tears, lacing his fingers with mine. The intimacy was nice, but felt unusually strange all at once. My heart hurt in my chest. Literally, it felt painful with every beat.

“This is so damn hard.” That’s what I said above the loud voices of the lunch crowd, and I never cursed. Today, I had to say what I felt. The reality of where I saw myself. There was no other way around it, as we sat alone for another half an hour.

My husband was late for his afternoon meeting. I knew he was, but he sat with me anyway. I think he is finally letting his grief surface. Up until now, he ran from it. Yet as we sat, eyes focused on the grain of the dark wooden table for two, the warmth of his touch radiated his need to finally get close. To understand that our son was truly gone, but we still had each other.

For that, I am grateful.

.. Alana

Copyright 2013

Written and owned by Valerie King at http://www.valeriekingbooks.com

Sacred Silence ~ Journal Entry #4

BookSacredSilence

 

Journal Entry #4

August 29th, 2013

Two weeks. At times it seems so much longer than that. I finally willed myself to open the door of Zach’s nursery today for the first time since losing him.

Miles and I hadn’t done much, as we weren’t expecting him to arrive so soon. His closet was full of diapers, newborn clothes and receiving blankets though. I pulled them out, folding each little cotton suit with pristine care, placing them in a cardboard box. All but one. I kept the very first item I ever bought when I found out I was pregnant. A little tan onsie with a giraffe on the front and the words “I Am Loved” stitched beneath it. He is loved. He will always be loved. I tucked this little suit beneath my tank tops in my dresser drawer. When I needed to feel him, remember, I’d always know that it was there.

The rest of the items I took to a women’s shelter downtown after lunch, handing them over to a beautiful young woman, with smiling brown eyes and braided hair with olive skin that reminded me of my youth.

“This is so generous of you! Everything is brand new. And the diapers…we need these badly. Thank you.”

I nodded, unable to answer as the tears started to build. She reached over and touched my hand, my eyes rising to hers. She seemed to understand my story without a word ever uttered. I could see it swimming in those almond shaped eyes of hers. Apparently I hadn’t been the first mother to step foot inside these four walls with a box of “new”, and heart of “loss”.

She finally spoke. Nadine was her name. I’ll never forget it. “Healing brings hope. And hope helps you heal. Peace to you, love.”

I offered her a warm smile. She accepted.

As I sip on a cup of tea, that giraffe onsie in my lap, and a pen in my hand, I am doing my best to find hope. For I realize that I gave a speck of it today to Nadine without even realizing I had done so. And in return, she had given it back.

.. Alana

Copyright 2013

Written and owned by Valerie King at http://www.valeriekingbooks.com

 

Sacred Silence ~ Journal Entry #3

BookSacredSilence

 

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 http://www.valeriekingbooks.com

Sacred Silence Novel ~ Journal Entry #2

BookSacredSilence

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 http://www.valeriekingbooks.com

Sacred Silence Novel ~ Journal Entry #1

BookSacredSilence

Journal Entry #1

August 20th, 2013

This morning I stood in front of the long mirror nestled in the corner of our bedroom, running my hands over my still swollen stomach; only today it was soft and frightfully uninhabited. My fingers wove themselves together, cradling the crook of my belly that once held my baby boy as he grew sweetly for more than five precious months.

I swallowed hard at the reality that had hit me square in the face five days ago at this very hour. I glanced at the clock. 4:34pm; the time of Zachariah’s birth. That unforgettable afternoon that will remain forever embedded in the wreckage of my shattered memories for the rest of my life. My frame was disheveled, my hair a complete mess, and my face swollen from continued bouts of crying when the thoughts of my indescribable loss arose.

Miles had immersed himself back at work today, the words between the two of sparse. Perhaps neither of us knew what to say anymore, how to cope together, leaving each of us to mourn Zachariah on our own.

Work was waiting for me, but I wasn’t sure I could ever return. Not for a good long while. I knew it would be excruciatingly hard to keep my frazzled emotions in tact with the sea of people I saw on a daily basis, but it was also the place where the loss of my little boy had begun. The thought had crossed my mind more than once that perhaps returning to Dr. Parson’s office was completely out of the question. I wasn’t sure I could ever step foot into the one place I knew hurt lurked; where it had swallowed me whole and stolen my very livelihood away.

It wasn’t healthy to try and cope alone, but whenever I felt the urge to run to my husband’s arms, hurting and compassionately broken, I stopped dead in my tracks each and every time. Somehow I knew I wouldn’t find the remedy in his arms; not for now at least. Such a thought was unnaturally wrong. He was my husband, for God’s sake. Yet, I can’t bring myself to confront him. Not now. Maybe never. The truth tears at my heart. So I weep, alone. The image of my baby boy on my mind every waking moment. And it hurts. Oh how it hurts.

.. Alana

Copyright 2013

Written and owned by Valerie King at http://www.valeriekingbooks.com

Monday Motherhood Moments ~ For Mothers Who Wear Capes…Mine Is Currently at the Cleaners In Sri Lanka

Who is this woman?! I want a pink cape and fishnet stockings! At least I know I’d fit in well at Walmart….

MOTHERHOOD

It’s a blessing, it’s a curse

A bowl of love, a booger stuck to a wee one’s finger

Soft kissable baby feet, grape-stained shirts that even Stain Stick refuses to remove

A picnic at the park, a permanent marker on the cushion of your dining room chair

A quart of giggles, a potty training nightmare

A house of love, a three year old’s tantrum in an aisle at Target over a Barbie

Little hands that hold tightly to yours, a no-nap taking ball of evil

A wondrous reflection of you in a tiny frame of sweetness, a quart of testing your patience that asks 4,000 questions an hour about why the crow outside is picking at his feathers…why doesn’t he just take a bath, why is the sky blue, will the ground ever swallow you whole, why is that lady wearing curlers in her hair at Kroger?

Pretty much. I do believe during pregnancy the amount of brain cells depleted by the unfathomable number of jars of pickles eaten or bowls of ice cream consumed transfers our minds to the little love of grace in our bellies. Babies don’t give those brain cells back. This is why LISTS become a mothers source of sanity after giving birth. Without lists, our lives would be reckless. Whoever invited the “To-Do” list was a mother. To do what? See? You need that list today…what was my point here? I didn’t write it down fast enough.

My life is crazy. Yet, I do my best to put on my cape of motherhood and head out into the bustling world of all things mom. Some days I realize my cape is at the cleaners, and when I don’t wear it, I usually end up losing my kitchen shears, only to find them later in the passenger seat of my car, or make a bowl of Mac & Cheese for the kid who HATES Mac & Cheese at lunchtime which ends in tears, or forgetting to return a library book that now costs me $23 in overdue charges. I don’t LOVE “Diary of a Wimpy Kid” that much I tell ya…

By the graceful words of Barney Stinson….

Mothers are not meant to be perfect. I’m not. So when I feel like a failure because I forgot to pick up SpongeBob fruit snacks at the store for my 8 year old who asked me 587 times to get them, I stop being sad…and I be awesome instead. And I drive all the way back to the store to buy those dad-gum fruit snacks because that’s what mother’s do.

SuperMom ~

VSK

*This is a guest post by our social media director, Valerie King, right here at IntelliGender. Valerie is also a homeschooling mother of three boys and an aspiring author who has already published several books, with more on the horizon. Her sense of humor is what keeps us laughing, and it’s blog posts like this that are DEFINITELY worth sharing! Want to learn more about Valerie or follow her blog posts? Then visit her at her personal website here. 

Monday Moments ~ Love At First Sight

 

Isn’t this picture stunning?!

Just moments after giving birth, this loving new mom cradles her new little life.

I remember my special moment of becoming mom like it was yesterday. For me, the birth of my twins was a scary moment. An utterly, overwhelming, and heart stopping moment of fear. Why? My boys were born 10 weeks early. With the uncertainty of their prematurity, I wasn’t really able to enjoy the first moments of their life. But I will say…the love of motherhood was instantaneous for me.

Love at first sight is real. Especially when your eyes meet the eyes of your child for the very first time.

When my third son was born four years later, my experience was much different. I was able to hold him right after birth, caress his plump pink cheek right away, and nurse him just minutes after he was laid in my arms for the very first time.

But as I relish those first moments with my children, I can say without a doubt…

Love at first sight is real. No matter how early, how late, how easy your birth is, or how hard it was…when your eyes meet the eyes of your child for the very first time the feeling is the same. Amazing and unexplainable…in the most magical way.

~ Valerie King

IntelliGender

Social Media Director