Lessons from Lord of the Rings

Nine years ago my husband and I  married.  On the evening of our wedding, we saw Lord of the Rings.  So many years ago I could not have imagined my own journey in life and the burden that I would carry.  In the Fellowship of the Ring, Frodo tells Gandalf that he wishes the ring had never come to him and Gandalf tells him that all people who live to see such times feel that way but that it is not their decision.  That our decision is what to do with the time we've been given.  I sometimes wish I had not been given these burdens, carrying two children that I know will not survive, that there is so little I can do for these babies. So much sadness and weight.  In the Two Towers I believe, a ruler buries his son and as he stands by his flower covered grave his heart heavy, he says that no parent should have to bury their child.  In the Return of the King when Frodo finally reaches Mordor and prepares to throw the ring into the fires of Mt Doom and he hesitates, wants to keep the ring for himself.  I have felt that, as I prepared the day of my c-section to give birth to Wyatt.  As much as I wanted to meet him, I remember crying and crying because I did not want to and was afraid I could not let him go, he was mine.  When I gave birth he would really no longer be mine and it was so hard to do what I knew that I must do.  The movies are so powerful because of the emotional journey, I just never realized how much that journey could speak to my own, how much of that pain I would soon feel from within my own heart.  All I can do is choose to do the best with the time I have been given.

Suffering and the Luxury of Grief

With three young children, grief is a luxury in this house.  Last time I wrapped myself tightly within the blanket of grief.  I wore it constantly.  I do not have that luxury this time.  These children need their mother as much as the one I carry inside does.  I need to smile, listen, play and teach.  I need to model appropriate behaviors for my children, to show them it is okay to grieve, but that it is not okay to let the grief destroy me.  That even on the darkest days there are moments of joy or at least beauty.  That while I am awaiting death, I must celebrate the life all around and within me. That's not saying that I don't cry or think about the heavy heavy burden that I carry every minute of the day.  It is ever present.  But sometimes I just have to push it aside and allow some other emotion to fill me instead.  I could cry a million tears and it will not bring my children back or save them, I know this because I have already done it.  I can beg, barter, scream and yell and it will not change anything.   Sometimes I feel as if there is no hope. But that's not true.  Our first daughter brought hope back into my world, she restored my faith in goodness and lifted the dark clouds that surrounded my heart.  In her I saw the joy and innocence that had literally been ripped out of my body just one year before.  I think the best I can hope for is to be graceful with my words and my actions. There is no villain to this story.