Good Grief

I'm supposed to be at a doctor appointment today, but I'm not. Ouch.

The bold letters and smiley faces in my calendar that shout "BABY DOCTOR!!!" are a cruel reminder that her baby will no longer be our baby.

It's weird. This grieving process and the one I went through with Kate are so different in some ways and so similar in others. The same because dates on the calendar seem emptier knowing we won't have a baby in tow like we envisioned. Different because putting away swings and sonograms and diaper bags and bottles is harder than putting away The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy.

What are those stupid stages of grief I'm supposed to experience? I really hate them...

1. Denial - Check. Although this stage was pretty quick. I literally had to check my call log to be sure I wasn't dreaming. I wasn't. So that one's done.

2. Anger - Check. Not at the Birthparents. It's their baby, and they have every right to choose to parent. No, this anger is directed at the complete unfairness of it all. More of a "What else do we have to endure before we get our baby?" or a "Why is it so easy for some girls/women to flippantly pop out babies once a year, and yet there are so many like us who would give anything for ONE?" Or "God, why would you allow everything to go so well and then suddenly yank it from us?"

3. Bargaining - Check. Mental health professionals say this is equal parts trying to make a deal with God (If you give us a baby, we promise to...) and questioning what we could/should have done to prevent this loss. My first thought after I hung up the phone was "God, seriously? What did I do wrong now?" I'm still struggling with this.

4. Depression - Check. The sadness is palpable - for me, at least. The hustle and bustle of preparing for her arrival has suddenly been put on mute. The house is a little quieter and darker, with a hint of shock still lingering in the corner of each room. The boys have, in a sense, moved on. I'm glad they can do that - in fact, I'm honestly very jealous they can do that. I seem to be the only one who's still broken up over this. It can be frustrating at times.

5. Acceptance - Hmm, not so much. Not yet.

But in the midst of all of this yucky grief stuff, there is still a sliver of hope and faith. Hope that someday soon, we will get another call, and faith that God still has His hand in this, His fingerprints touching every little part - the seen and the unseen, the good and the bad - as He diligently weaves two stories together to create a perfect family tapestry of love, faith, and JOY. I'm clinging to those truths and more as I work through my grief, and I know we will have an amazing testimony to share when it all comes full circle.