Friday, January 30, 2009

Stages of Grief

I've been wondering if there's a numb stage somewhere in the 5 stages of grief. That's pretty much how I feel today. Numb. I cried my eyes out yesterday... Today- nothing. Dry as a bone. Or maybe its denial. Denial that what happened yesterday didn't really happen.

As I happened apon a website with the 5stages of grief, I realized that numbness is in there. In the depression section (which, really surprised me, actually. I wouldn't consider myself depressed, but rather: "detached")

I read a lot of the book of Job in my bible today. That whole situation just baffles me. I still don't "get it". Maybe I will by the time I finish the book, but right now, it doesn't make sense to me.

Job says in chapter 6, verses 11-13

"What strength do I have, that I should still hope? What prospects, that I should be patient? Do I have the strength of stone? Is my flesh bronze? Do I have any power to help myself, now that success has been driven from me?"

I get this. I really do. I feel completely hopeless and I am lacking in strength. I just don't know if I can even attempt to try again.

E thinks that we should go ahead and try during the month of February. Dr. H said that we could try on our own if we'd like this month, then in March start back with the meds. Honestly, if I had to decide today, it would be to stop trying. I don't know if I can bear to go through this again. Every time I feel like I'm healing, it happens again and I have to start over. Except, I'm never really starting over from scratch. Its not like "poof" I'm healed, and I never get sad or think about my babies. There's always the hurt and sadness of missing them. Even when I feel like I'm healing, its always there. Each time I loose one, I think to myself that "I should be used to this by now." I should be used to the loss, sadness, disappointment. But, I'm not. It seems like it should be easier, but it gets harder. Each one is harder and harder and harder.

A friend, (who in the past has said some pretty stupid things to say to someone who's grieving) told me that she couldn't wait to get to heaven to meet all of my little saints. I don't believe that they are Saints (she's Catholic) I do believe that they are there. Each one of them. This is how I know:

Psalm 139:13-16
13 For you formed my inward parts;you knitted me together in my mother's womb.14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. [1]Wonderful are your works;my soul knows it very well.15 My frame was not hidden from you,when I was being made in secret,intricately woven in the depths of the earth.16 Your eyes saw my unformed substance;in your book were written, every one of them,the days that were formed for me,when as yet there was none of them.


d e v a n said...

I don't think it's possible to get used to something like this. I'm sorry Tracy.

Lisa said...

I don't either.
I don't think you would ever get used to losing someone that you love.

Melanie said...

I'm so sorry. That sounds so inadequate, but it's all I've got. :( This just plain sucks. It's not fair. I don't understand it. I feel like quitting too.

yabby said...

It might help if you have something physical to remember your loss. I have a set of precious feet and precious hands that I wear on my winter jacket (both of my losses were in the winter). It doesn't make the loss any more real but it does give me something I can see and touch when I am most weak. It also gives me a chance to share my loss without needing to say anything. (one place you can buy them is