A couple of nights ago, I got in bed...nauseous. I was in a bad mood because I have waiting (impatiently) for 7 weeks for my sickness to ease up to no avail. It was early....only about 9:30pm. My pity party kept me up for a bit, until I realized I wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon. I felt stillness next to me in the form of my husband, who had journeyed off into dreamland. I was wide awake. This was so unusual for these days since usually I'm asleep minutes after my head hits the pillow.
I picked up my iphone, and opened facebook (of course). And then I knew why God was keeping me awake...
It was at that very moment I learned that just seconds before, a friend of mine, due only two days after me, had just posted the news that she lost her baby at about 12 weeks. My heart sunk for her. Right there in my bed, I felt the same despair and heaviness I had on many nights after my miscarriages. I cried in disbelief and knew of nothing to do except pray. And suddenly, I knew what it was like to be for all of those people around me who lay awake at night with ME on their minds. And it was so humbling.
My mind went into overdrive about how I could use my pain to care for Erin. Do I call her? Do I write her? I will definitely pray, but what do I say? I found myself trying to recall the things that were said to me from which I felt comfort. And I remembered all-too-well the things NOT to say, too. (Those never leave your mind). And, I fell asleep praying.
The very next morning, my heart heavy for Erin and what I know she was feeling on the morning of her D&C, I stumbled across this blog by a woman who had lost a child and has worked through the pain and process of mourning on her blog as well. As I read her words out lout to my sister, tears flowing, I KNEW how to help Erin. This blog entry summed up the emotions that I felt this year, packaged in a few paragraphs, and she is SO RIGHT.
My heart breaks for Erin, and for anyone who suffers a loss like this. And even though I could probably muster up some advice and tips for Erin for surviving the next few weeks and months, I knew that the best thing to give to her was my broken heart. I have cried nearly DAILY for her.
I've cried for YOU daily, Erin.
And I want her to hear that because I know it helped me most - to hear that other people hurt deeply for me, and that I wasn't alone.
You're not alone, sweet, hurting friend. Our comforting Father (along with me and an army of prayer warriors) are with you.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
comforting others...
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3 comments:
so bittersweet to read of the beauty in loving a hurting friend in a time of terrible loss. praise God that he chooses to use you to love Erin in a way that others may not be able.
Thanks so much for this, Katie. I recently had a friend who went through a miscarriage, and I was completely caught off guard by the amount of grief that it brought to me, thinking about my own previous loss (even two babies later), but also knowing the pain that she was walking through as well. Although we never would have asked to walk through these difficult things, I KNOW that we are uniquely equipped to love on others who will walk through these things as well. It really is true that you can't understand unless you have been through it. Loved your blog, and also loved the blog you linked to. Thanks for your broken, open, beautiful heart.
Amazingly insightful post; I've had a few friends who have gone through such pain and as a male its really discouraging knowing you have little chance of helping (something about human nature refuses help more readily if one can't personally relate).
Thank you also for the links, they were quite helpful and moving. Condolences for your friend as well as yourself; at the same time I give my happiness knowing that one can still help without physical action. Bonne journee
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