My life has changed. As you know, I was pregnant. I fought hard to carry my baby girl full term to increase her chances of being born healthy. I prayed, I took it easy, I did what the doctor instructed. (Thanks so very much to those who prayed with me.) On November 1, 2013 at 12:17 pm, I gave birth to my third miracle child: Celeste Angelle Wilson. She was 6 pounds and 13 ounces. She was HEALTHY! Her birth was one of the happiest moments of my life! But although she was born healthy, her life was short lived. My beautiful, healthy baby became sick--meningitis. Once I recognized that something was wrong..., well, she died. She died on November 10th, 2013 at 3 pm. She was 9 days old.
I was devastated. I was confused. I was angry. I am horribly hurting still...
So, as encouraged to do by those who believe in purpose, I write, I share, I grieve through words. I release some of my feelings, the ones that I can let out. This is my therapy. So please excuse what may not be right...my baby has died.
Below is a little of what is boiling over in me. Please pray my strength...I am an overcomer!
How Are You Today?
Have you ever given someone exactly what he expected or what
he wanted to hear? You did it denying
what is real because the truth has the power to deem you as crazy. Who wants to be crazy? Maybe instead of giving him the truth, you
give the Christian response to his question:
God still reigns or God will make everything all right! Tragedy causes one to evaluate her
answers. So do I present him with a
neatly wrapped gift—a myth, or stick him with the truth that screams from the
tip of my tongue for freedom?
He may ask a simple question with eyes and emotions filled
with concern: “How are you today?”
Such a simple question, but yet time pauses and my mind
races, searching for a reply. I know he
wants the best for me, but still I know he’d rather accept my lie. What if maybe, just maybe I told the truth instead
of the lie?
How am I today? Well, each morning brings a new
heartbreak wrapped in memories. When
night finally falls it is so dark-so dark…and I can’t see through the thick
blackness that smothers my thoughts complete.
I must choose every day to live on through this. I must choose. Life, living… doesn’t come
naturally for me anymore. My tears
easily flow at the mention of her sweet name.
I still shake and sweat with a pain that I can’t relieve. People tell me that it takes time. Time will release me. Only time they say. Yet, life goes on for you. But not me; I wait for time.
How am I today? Well, today I don’t want to go on. Yep, sometimes I want to just die. No, I really mean die. Give up this hurt that lies deep inside of
me. However, instead of dying, I sit and remember her sweet little face with
her soft innocent eyes.
Would you hold me
please? Just let me cry in your arms? Be careful of your answer, we may be here for
a while. My loss is so deep. It is more
than you see or even feel with your free, living, blood beating heart. My loss is deep: her very existence and death
started and ended with me. She is passed
on now, and I’m suppose to go back to normal: work, church, and mothering. Not that simple, though. I am not the same. A part of me has been removed. It will not be returned until the Great By
and By. How long? How long before my loss disappears and my
nostrils once again are filled with her scent?
How long before my broken heart reconnects with the missing piece to my
living? Right now, I know she is not
coming back, so I continue to exist with this constant hurt and a heart filled
with death’s sorrow and grief’s pain. I
just don’t know how to go on again. How
do I move from this place I’m now in?
But no matter what I feel, I will go on. I must.
Not much of a choice here. I’ll
live for my kids—the ones I still have.
Still, when I hold the two left with me close, I remember my baby’s cry
that was comforted by my warm loving embrace.
I remember her tears that dried because of the melodies I sang to her
about God’s love and grace.
How am I today? I
don’t think you really want to know. Because
you would realize that you are not able to be my healing balm. I’m not mad at you, though. I just thought you would want to know that
when you ask me how I’m doing, you may not like my response.
So, he may ask a simple question with eyes and emotions
filled with concern: “How are you
today?”
Such a simple question, but yet time pauses and my mind
races, searching for a reply. I know he
wants the best for me, but still I know he’d rather accept my lie.
I’m okay.
I’m fine.
I’m holding on.
Those are the words I say, but now you know what’s really
going on.
~Melva Brown
This has been Melva's TRUTH.
Remember: I am not the good news: Jesus is!
One Day I'll Tell My Kids Entry # 11
Chandler and Cameron,
You have taught me a great lesson. No matter how well or how poorly I mother you from day to day, you still love me. You love me--your mother, with a passionate, desperate, comforting and pure love. You love me when my foundation is sure, solid, and rooted. You love me when I am shaky, insecure, and wavering. You love me...unconditionally.
A child's love is so simple. Children love just because...
Through you, during this rainy season of our lives, I have witnessed and felt God's love for me. Such a miracle. Although I may not always smile or understand why...I will never forget what God has done through you--for me. You, Chan and Cam, have saved me...your love...keeps me sane...keeps me near...gives me hope.
Thank you! Thank you from my heart!
Love you much,
Mommy
