A Gift

This is from another post from the Scribbles & Crumbs Facebook page project called #OnComingAlive. I've posted other things from this. They are all stories from grieving mothers who are finding hope in their heartache. This lady struggled with infertility and lost three children. I didn't find that the whole story applied, but there are bits and pieces that are helpful.

(Talking about grief): "Does it get better?" she asks. I know she's hoping I will say that it does.
"It gets different," I respond.

The only evidence I have of my three children are black and white pictures from our infertility clinic. The photos show three blobs of 8 cells; and they are my children.

My children I parent from afar.

A grief journey that many will never understand or even try to understand.

A journey that has changed my life so much that I can say I am actually learning to trust it. I am honored God chose my husband and me to be their parents, if only in so much as forever wondering about them and getting that one grainy black and white picture.

(My own note: I am so thankful that I have SO much more of you than that!I feel bad for this lady though.)

Because so much has been born of them.

Without them I would not have fought my way out of darkness. Without them I would not have changed my entire life to become the incredible woman living the life I never dreamed today. Without them, my legacy would have been much different.

Because God chose me to be their mother, I found my place in His story.

Because I am their mother, I defined my own happy ending through my longing joy, in what I call the complicated gray.

The complicated gray is the muck we must walk into, the space between the happiness and the anger, the trust and the loss, the worry and the acceptance, the joy and the longing. Because when I give myself permission to feel it all, to walk into the complicated gray, life awakens in color.

And in that color I have painted a life redefined, a life of coming alive.

Alive in (she lists many things)

Alive in deeper and healthier relationships.

Alive in breaking the silence.

Alive in changing the conversations.

Alive in helping others.

Alive in birthing a rare kind of parenthood.

Ends with:  "You are a gift," she finally breaks the silence.

"I have become a gift because of them."

by Justine Brooks Froelker