Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Waiting on You, Lord

So, the Christmas cards have started rolling in... excuse me for a moment while I sound really ungrateful... I'm not into them. Especially the ones with no mention of Rachel. I am really not ready to move on. I LOVE Chirstmas. I LOVE Christ - and I am so looking forward to celebrating His birth this year. It is because of His birth that I can rest assured that Rachel is truly in that "better place" that everyone talks about. But two days after burying my daughter, I'm just not ready to have life go back to "normal" - "normal" will never exsist for us again, I realize that. But this is what I had said I was afraid of a couple of days ago... that life will return to normal for everyone else except me - the Christmas cards really just accentuate that. I feel like we need more than a week to transition from the loss of our daughter to the biggest celebration of the year. I went to open a couple of cards yesterday and today, thinking they would be sympathy cards or encouragement cards... something, anything that shows that people are aware of our loss and our sadness, and was caught off guard by "Merry Chirtmas" cards and "Have a Happy New Year" cards. I know it's this time of year... I know this is what everyone else is doing... but I'm still really sad. I'm still deeply grieving. Matt hasn't even gone back to work yet... we're just not ready to call things "normal". It's also going to be hard because Rachel's original due date was Christmas. From the moment we knew she was with us, Chirstmas 2010 was going to be especially significant. Here was the announcements we sent out back in May:

We will always have an extra stocking... we will be a family of 6 until we add another member and become 7. I am sorry to say that I think I was lying when I made up this litte rhyme...

I didn't mean it. I didn't mean that I only wished to make one request. I am so glad that she is filled with God's redeeming love, but I have MANY more requests... I want a girl... I want Rachel. I want her here with us. I want to fill her stocking, not just hang it and I want her to open it. I want to wrap her up a big empty box and watch her play in it. I want to hold her, to nurse her, to be awoken over and over every night cause she is crying. I want her to spit up on me and even have blow outs. I want to watch her grow. I want to buy cute girl clothes and dress her up in them. I want Desirae to have someone to share a room with. I want to listen to her babble and put her hair in pig tails. I want to devote my life to taking care of her along with the other three. I want to be so busy with 4 kids that I feel like I could die...

I want to be excited about Christmas cards. I'm just not.

Today, I cried on and off all afternoon. I just couldn't help it. I guess it's a new stage in my grief. I seem to be more sad today than I have been yet. I just miss her so much. I miss feeling her move. I hate that I have become a regular at the grave yard.

Along this journey, God has blessed me with some new friendships that have become such a blessing, one being with Emily. Today she came to get Des to bring her out for a class and when she got here I was crying. She didn't offer any wisdom, just prayed with me and told me she would continue praying and left. When they came back tonight, Des gave me a gift from her. It was a little "hope" sign that I had been eyeing when we went out last night and a card... again, not with her "wisdom", but comfort straight from God's Word. Verses that showed me she understood how heavy my heart was. The verses were so powerful for me tonight, I wanted to share them...

I waited patiently for the Lord. He turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire, he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear the Lord and put thier trust in Him. - Psalm 40:1-3

But as for me, I am poor and needy; may the Lord think of me. You are my help and my deliverer. You are my God, do not delay. - Psalm 40:17

I'm waiting on You, Lord.


  1. Oh, Stacey,

    I cannot find the right words.

    I am so sorry, that you have to go through this.

    I am sorry, that your little girl is not with you. How could anything be normal!?

    Thinking of you.
    Auntie Lolo

  2. Hi Stacy,
    I have been following your blog since I read about Rachel on Autumn Green's website, like most I can't even begin to know what you are going through......but there is a woman whose blog I follow; her little son is now in Jesus' arms and I am taking a leap and sharing her address so you can read a post she wrote on his birthday, here it is

    I have added you and your family to my prayers.

  3. Stacy, you have every right to still be sad. I can understand not being into Christmas cards this year. It's not fair that everyone's lives seem to go on while your still grieving. As you said you can't just turn these feelings off. Rachel was your sweet baby girl that was taken too soon, but know she watches her mama from above and loves you very much and knows that you love her. I have not forgotten about Rachel, I think of her everyday. Since I started reading your blog a while back I pray for you all EVERYDAY. You guys are always in my prayers. I am so sorry for all your going through, I can't imagine what it is like to be in your situation. Know that God will carry you through this. When you feel down and alone look to HIM and he will pick you back up and carry you. Just know that I am one person who will not forget your sweet baby girl. <3

  4. I'm just another of the strangers affected by your story. I check your blog daily..several times a day even. Your strength has been so inspiring. I can only imagine what you are going through, but know you have many brothers & sisters in Christ still crying with you. God knew what he was doing when he picked Rachel's family. I will continue to pray for God to lift you up and carry your through this until you are ready to stand on your own. I know he will.

    Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.
    ~Lamentations 3:23

  5. my first "itfeelslikewe'rereturningtonormal" break down was epic. dave fed me some ambian and put me back to bed at 11am that day.

    turns out, i left "normal" behind on May 12th, that and my innocence are gone.

    love you, how awesome is the Lord to provide us encouragement just when we need it?

  6. Still thinking of and praying for your family. I am sorry you do not feel like you are getting the support you need along with the Christmas cards, but glad to hear you have such caring friends as Emily who seem to be inspired how to help in the right ways.

  7. I just want you to know that I've been praying since I found out about Rachel. I know the journey, and it is just little things that set you off or that become triggers for you. Passing that due date is a tough hurdle...when everything in you wanted to make it there...and celebrate the birth of your sweet child. I know that you "know" your baby is with Jesus...but takes a while to grasp the TRUE JOY of that, because we miss them so much. It just hurts that they're not here. Have hope that it does get better. The way you felt during pregnancy...where the grief was a little less tangible....I feel like it fades back to that's been three months + for me...and it is getting better. But Gosh, do I miss him! I wish he were here. I am praying for your Christmas. The days after. Praying that the Lord would give you the peace that passes all understanding...

  8. The day of Rachels service..........
    On the way to the church I had to stop in the middle of Rochester for a school bus and the crossing guard. I thought to myself that this was a weekday and as I looked around I felt a jolt of anger as I realized the rest of the world is going about their ordinary lives while I was headed to a church to say goodbye to my grand-daughter. I mean - of course they are - but I had not thought about it until that moment. When I saw the line at Dunkin Donuts I thought again about how personal this pain is. When I walked up those stairs in the church and saw that tiny casket I literally felt my heart shatter. There was no more bending in the wind - it simply broke into a million pieces. I wasn't sure at that moment I could bear the pain. I looked around but found no escape. At some point I went downstairs to get a coffee. When I went into the room there were many people mulling around. I heard people catching up on each others lives or making small talk about the weather etc.. I stood there until their small talk faded into a blur. The only thing I could focus on was that tiny casket. So I returned upstairs. It was where I needed to be. Grief is exhausting. I have wondered many times since her service how you, Matt, the kids and everyone who cares about you re-enters the ordinariness of life. Is it even possible? I didn't think so. Then last night we went to Uncle Davids and Lori's. I was looking at their Christmas decorations. They have such a cute house that has such a homey feeling in it. I noticed all the pictures of their kids and extended family. The tree all lit up. The garland, Santa, candles and holly. Then I saw a card with Rachels handprints tucked in the corner of one of the kitchen cabinets. To the left hanging on the edge of the doorway was all the Christmas cards they have received. Nestled in the middle was a page from Rachels service pamphlet. It is the page with a picture of all of you and a photo of just Rachel at the bottom. Under Rachel is "Life is not measured..." I thought to myself that they didn't put these things there because they felt they "had" to or because they thought you would visit and see them. They nestled Rachel in amongst the joy of their lives because she is permanently etched in their hearts and minds. She was, therefore she is. I realized while I was sitting there that we don't need to figure out how to move forward while leaving Rachel behind. We move forward bringing her with us. Because she is in fact part of our collective future, having changed every heart she melted, she has shaped the future of many. Thank you Uncle David and Lori for loving unconditionally within your so very ordinary lives.
    Love, Mom

  9. It does hurt when it feels like the world has moved on and you are still standing still grieving for your daughter. I pray that someone in your life steps out and remembers her with you.


We so appreciate your words of encouragement!
Thank you! ♥ The Aubes