Oh My Soul

“No mom can come up with words to express the ripping pain of losing a child…and no words can do justice to the mysteries of God in the midst of tragedy.” 

Mary Beth Chapman

I haven’t written anything for a few days because I’ve been sick. Like in the bed sleeping all day sick. It was strange because during that time I didn’t feel an overwhelming sense of grief. I guess my body was so focused on healing that I didn’t have any energy left over to feel pain or grief. Today was the first day I have felt better. Except I didn’t. It seems that even on good days there’s a shadow of pain, a palpable feeling of loss. That’s not to say that I don’t ever experience joy because I do. God has a sweet way of making the joy and sorrow collide in little moments along the way. 

Today as I was driving to an appointment, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this is my new normal. I’m doing normal things…I’m acting normal…but I couldn’t feel any further than normal if I tried. Right after we lost Ellie, I had this thought that everywhere I went people would somehow know that my baby had just died, like it was stamped on my forehead or something. I felt like I couldn’t go out in public without people seeing my deepest pain written all over my face. Over time, that feeling has subsided some, and it has made me more aware of the suffering of those around me. I know how I feel on the inside, yet I look ok to the outsider looking in. How many more people are out there walking among us daily that seem fine but are secretly carrying their biggest pain, their heaviest burdens?

I don’t really want to write about this because it makes me uncomfortable. I don’t like that. So many people have told me, “You’re so strong,” or “I don’t think my faith could be as strong as yours if I was in your shoes…” I know I’ve said it before, but I am NOT strong. I’m barely holding it together. Seriously. And I can promise you that if you suddenly found yourself in my shoes, your faith would grow immeasurably. I know mine has. Of course we all have a choice to run TO God or AWAY from Him during trials and tragedies, but I don’t see any option except to cling to Him with everything I have. I pour my heart into every single blog post that I write, to the point that I am physically and emotionally exhausted by the time I’m done. The inspiration for a post hangs over me like a storm cloud threatening to pour all over me until I sit down to write, and as soon as I click “publish,” the cloud disappears, and I feel an instant relief and peace. What I have to share today sits particularly heavy on me. Because it’s uncomfortable. It’s an elephant in the room that nobody wants to talk about. So in the interest of being honest and real, here we go…

Anxiety. It’s an ugly word. Just typing it makes my skin crawl. It’s defined as a feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome. Anxiety is not something I’ve ever dealt with before. I’m usually a pretty easy-going girl. It takes a lot to rattle me to my core. The events of November 13th, 2017, rattled me to my core. Since then, I have made it my life’s mission to depend on God for my every need because I know I can’t do anything without Him. I can’t even get out of bed in the morning without Him. I’ve spent more time these past several weeks than perhaps any other time in my life praying and just making time to be in His presence. I know how to take every thought captive to the obedience of Christ. That’s not to say I’m a model citizen of heaven 100% of the time in that department, but I am typically pretty successful at recognizing thoughts that are not of Christ and dismissing them. 

I guess I’ve always thought of anxiety as something that can be controlled. People feel anxious because they aren’t trusting God, because they’re allowing their thoughts and fears to run wild and unchecked. Boy, was I wrong! I’ve been experiencing an “edginess” for several weeks now. It’s as if I’m hypersensitive to everything. Like all of my senses are working overtime, particularly my hearing. So many noises that typically wouldn’t even bother me suddenly are making me feel incredibly tense and stressed. Let's be real...I live in a house of tiny terrorists, I mean, toddlers...I'm generally pretty immune to noise. But these days, even the slightest noise can set me on edge. I carry my stress in my shoulders, and I’m in constant pain these days because the muscles are so tight. My chiropractor can’t even help much right now because my back is so locked up. In fact, as I type this, I’m sitting in my favorite chair with a rice sock on my neck and a heating pad on my back. It’s miserable. I don’t want to feel this way. I hate that absolutely everything puts me on edge. 

After Ellie’s service (by the way, if you haven’t seen it yet, you can watch it here), a dear friend who is also a post partum nurse cautioned me about looking for signs of post partum depression or anxiety setting in. At the time, I very much appreciated her concern and the reminder to be vigilant, but I didn’t think it was likely to happen to me. I’ve had 2 babies already, and it’s never been an issue. And for a while, it wasn’t. Until it was. The anxiety got super intense for about a week, but then it significantly decreased. I just chalked it up to my body and hormones trying to return to normal after delivering a baby. Except that it stayed just below the surface. It was constantly there, just waiting to spring into action after being triggered by the most trivial things it seemed. I could feel a constant tension, a constant edginess. 

It was causing me to have outbursts of emotions that are very uncharacteristic for me. I know that emotions are a part of grieving, and I don’t try to hinder them. But releasing the tears while I let God love on me is completely different than the intensity of outbursts of uncontrollable crying, shaking, and, well, anxiety, I was dealing with. I knew something had to change. One of my biggest fears in this whole process is that I don’t want to do anything to numb the pain or to run away from it. In fact, I’m trying to run to it and let Him hold me through it. My frustration has been that on a spiritual and emotional level, I feel ok (as ok as I can feel given my circumstances). I prayed so much about it, but it wasn’t getting any better. In fact, it was escalating. It wasn’t just moments here and there of severe anxiety, it was getting to be all the time. I was really starting to think that I might need some help outside of extra prayer time and listening to my playlists. I called my doctor and talked to her about it. She suggested I try some medication to help ease the anxiety. I was initially very opposed to any medication because I wanted to deal with this just me and God. But I also understand that there are still a lot of hormones changing, and that also can create anxiety and depression. I can take my thoughts captive all day long, but I can’t change what’s going on within my body right now. 

It has only been a few days now, but I am already feeling significantly better. It’s still a constant battle, but I’m encouraged to be seeing some improvement. However, with that said, I have never felt more alone. So many thoughts creeping in... My husband doesn’t really understand. My family doesn’t really understand. Nobody knows what to do or how to act around me. Some of them have even told me as much. I feel in some ways like I’m being treated with kid gloves now, as if I might fall apart at any moment (last week, that may very well have been the case a few times). As I said before, anxiety is not normally a struggle for me. I’m generally pretty confident in who I am in Christ, and I don’t worry so much about what other people think about me. Yet these past few weeks, it has been in the forefront of my mind constantly. I worry about what people think. Why? I have no idea. Honestly, I don’t have the mental or emotional energy to think or care about what other people are thinking about me. Yet I still worry. What if someone finds out I’m not strong enough to deal with my anxiety on my own? What if they find out that I’m taking medication? I'd better not tell anyone. Nobody will understand. 

Normally at nearly 9 weeks post partum, I’m nursing a baby and not really worried about losing weight. My baby weight tends to fall off fairly quickly after delivery because breastfeeding is amazing for burning calories. Everybody knows you have a baby and still look several months pregnant for a little while afterwards, and it’s ok. They see your newborn with you and totally understand. No one mistakes you for being pregnant. You can wear your stretchy pants as long as you want and no one cares. Except that I don’t have a baby anymore. And I still look pregnant. And I’m not burning calories like a crazy person because I stopped breastfeeding almost as soon as I started. And I learned today when I organized my closet that even my Fatty McFat Pants don’t fit right now. You know, those pants that you go to on the days you feel huge because they’re reliable and always fit. Maybe they’re even a little too big normally. Yeah, those pants. They don’t fit me anymore. I decided I was tired of looking pregnant and that a step in the right direction was to store the stretchy pants and pull out my regular pants. So I stored the stretchy pants and then realized I don’t have any pants that fit. Yet one more way I feel alone.

Lots of my mama friends moan and groan about how rough it is trying to transition back to non-stretchy pants after having a baby, but I’m the only one of them who doesn’t have a baby to show for it. I feel this pressure to be instantly thin because there’s no baby with me to “explain away” my still-too-big belly. I know that sounds crazy…Not one person has ever said anything to me about it. But these are thoughts that I have in this fog of anxiety. The fog has been so thick that I have felt isolated. No one understands, I think. I can’t say what I’m really thinking because it might scare them. They’d probably run away. Nobody wants to see me like this. If only they knew what I was really like...

So as I was driving to my appointment today, I was looking at the beautiful day and just feeling like my heart could not have been any heavier. I hate that feeling. I had that thought again – is this my new normal? It’s awful. I turned on my music and started asking God for help. Honestly, I didn't even know what to pray. I asked Him to give me a song to connect with, one that would express what my heart was too heavy to do for itself. This was the next song that played…

Oh My Soul – Casting Crowns

Oh, my soul

Oh, how you worry

Oh, how you're weary, from fearing you lost control

This was the one thing, you didn't see coming

And no one would blame you, though

If you cried in private

If you tried to hide it away, so no one knows

No one will see, if you stop believing

Oh, my soul

You are not alone

There's a place where fear has to face the God you know

One more day, He will make a way

Let Him show you how, you can lay this down

'Cause you're not alone

Here and now

You can be honest

I won't try to promise that someday it all works out

'Cause this is the valley

And even now, He is breathing on your dry bones

And there will be dancing

There will be beauty where beauty was ash and stone

This much I know

Oh, my soul

You are not alone

There's a place where fear has to face the God you know

One more day, He will make a way

Let Him show you how, you can lay this down

I'm not strong enough, I can't take anymore

(You can lay it down, you can lay it down)

And my shipwrecked faith will never get me to shore

(You can lay it down, you can lay it down)

Can He find me here

Can He keep me from going under

Oh, my soul

You're not alone

There's a place where fear has to face the God you know

One more day, He will make a way

Let Him show you how, you can lay this down

'Cause you're not alone

Oh, my soul, you're not alone

This song perfectly echoes my heart in these days. Every. Single. Word. I have felt so alone, but I know I’m not. And I don’t have to carry this burden anymore. All these thoughts and fears of what others are thinking. All the wondering, am I normal? Am I doing this right? I don't have to fix it. He's got this. I can lay all of them down at the foot of the cross. He wants to show me how if I'll let Him. My favorite part of the song is the bridge when he cries out to God in the most raw and honest way. My heart has cried those exact words so many times recently, “I’m not strong enough! I can’t take anymore! And my shipwrecked faith will never get me to shore. Can You find me here? Can You keep me from going under?” And there He is in the midst of it all, repeating, just waiting for me to listen, “You can lay it down. You can lay it down.” 

I love the reminder of the vision of Ezekiel breathing life into the dry bones of Israel. That vision was a promise that Israel would be restored to blessing. At the time, Israel was in captivity, in a state of living death. They thought hope was lost and they had been separated from God forever. But God had other ideas. He was ready to breathe life and hope into them. Such a beautiful reminder that even now in the valley of the shadow of death, He is breathing new life into my bones, and He will make beauty out of these ashes. Oh, my soul!

Psalm 116

I love the Lord, for he heard my voice;

he heard my cry for mercy.

Because he turned his ear to me,

I will call on him as long as I live.

The cords of death entangled me,

the anguish of the grave came over me;

I was overcome by distress and sorrow.

Then I called on the name of the Lord:

“Lord, save me!”

The Lord is gracious and righteous;

our God is full of compassion.

The Lord protects the unwary;

when I was brought low, he saved me.

Return to your rest, my soul,

for the Lord has been good to you.

For you, Lord, have delivered me from death,

my eyes from tears,

my feet from stumbling,

that I may walk before the Lord

in the land of the living.

I trusted in the Lord when I said,

“I am greatly afflicted”;

in my alarm I said,

“Everyone is a liar.”

What shall I return to the Lord

for all his goodness to me?

I will lift up the cup of salvation

and call on the name of the Lord.

I will fulfill my vows to the Lord

in the presence of all his people.

Precious in the sight of the Lord

is the death of his faithful servants.

Truly I am your servant, Lord;

I serve you just as my mother did;

you have freed me from my chains.

I will sacrifice a thank offering to you

and call on the name of the Lord.

I will fulfill my vows to the Lord

in the presence of all his people,

in the courts of the house of the Lord—

in your midst, Jerusalem.

Praise the Lord.