Learning to grieve...

I think most people who have experienced something big and life-altering can agree that things are never the same, again--hence the term 'life-altering.'
Sure, it's easy for onlookers to see you back in your 'groove' and assume from what they see that you just climbed right back up onto the saddle and nothing's changed.
Don't I wish...EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY... that that were the case.
What I wouldn't give to get a redo. Even just to get one day of my mid-twenties, early in our marriage, with my body INTACT.. where kids were an OPTION and our sex-life didn't remind me constantly that they aren't.. where looking at myself in the mirror didn't stare back a scarred mess.. where conversations of nursing and/or women's boobs didn't make me want to burst into tears. Just one day. To EMBRACE what I had way more than I did when I had the chance to.

You hear parents who've lost children say to others 'Embrace your children tighter tonight. Spend more time with them...as though it's your last opportunity to do so.'

In my case it's no different. Maybe it's a bit more awkward to say 'women, go caress yourselves--or better yet, let your hubby do so, and count your sensation-filled booby-blessings' but I say it, nonetheless.
Moms, as you nurse...especially if it's your third or forth or fifth child.......think about how you would feel if suddenly that weren't even an option. Or for that matter, as you stare into that precious little face while doing so, ponder how gut-wrenched you'd be if that baby wouldn't of happened...weren't made an option when you decided to conceive him or her. If that baby was never allowed to be born into your life.


Until recently, I never really considered these thoughts as anything but a negative and damaging focus that I 'shouldn't' have... but I have been blessed with a counselor recently who said something profound that I have tried to embrace: there are no 'shouldn'ts'...only 'do's.'
Maybe I 'shouldn't' feel saddened at the fact that my husband pretty much avoids my chest area because he knows I feel nothing. But I DO. Maybe I 'shouldn't' feel ripped apart after listening to hours and hours of nursing conversation had by family with small babies. But I DO. Maybe I 'shouldn't' mourn the loss of the future children I so DESPERATELY wanted to create with Aaron. But I DO.


You see, cancer creates losses. BIG ones.
And whenever we experience a loss, grief must ensue.

I've never been a super emotional person--exuberant and expressive, most definitely--but drama and/or lots of crying and, well, grief, just never really 'fit' my personality.
But as my counselor and I were just talking about recently, even my very person has been altered. Sure I still smile a lot, but there is so much hurt--along with gained wisdom and priceless hindsight--but lots of grief existent where there was none, before.
I can't change it. Believe me, I've tried. But the funny thing about grief is that it can't be controlled or caged and, in fact, when you try to do so with it, it only morphs and grows into areas of you that are deeper and even more fragile.
Nope. Embracing.


EMBRACING the need to scream at the mirror.
EMBRACING the need to cry at the sight of sweet little girls with their mommies.
EMBRACING the need to tell the Lord how ANGRY this all makes me feel.
EMBRACING writing on here, again.

My mom used to tell me as a young child that 'our tears are the window-washers of our soul.' You'd think having heard that most of my life that I would just EMBRACE my emotions, but instead, I do whatever I can to combat them and barrel through. I think that's some of the McGee hard-headedness in me. ;)

But as the days pass, I am realizing, the more I ALLOW myself to just FEEL WHAT AND HOW I FEEL..that grief is ok and in fact it's part of the process that leaves me in a much better place.

Yes. Slowly, but surely... I am learning.. to grieve.