Grief Gut Punch

Grief surprised me this past Sunday – Mother’s Day.

I really didn’t expect it.

I had given thought a few days before that this would be the first Mother’s Day after our miscarriage this past fall.

I took note.

Recognized feelings and thoughts were a possibility, but that was all the credence I gave it.

But, grief is like a ninja.

Hiding then attacking with a surprise gut punch when you least expect it or think you have things under control.

And I was no exception.

We had our morning huddle before Church began with our staff and serving team and our Pastor spoke a quick synopsis of the sermon: suffering.

But suffering presented with hope.

I thought to myself, ‘I’m not suffering’

Just saying those words to myself was all it took.

Denial mixed with the reality that I was, in fact, suffering.

My eyes started to fill and I stood there surprised and unable to completely take hold of my emotions.

I was in this weird space of grieving our loss, grieving I should be holding a little one already, but also feeling blessed that I was granted a little one to carry again.

Trying to equally hold the tension of grief and blessing.

If I sit in grief, am I being ungrateful for the blessing of another?

If I sit in blessing, am I denying the grief of our loss?

It’s a raw feeling holding those two simultaneously.

Raw and vulnerable.

Yet necessary and important.