Being Carried By Jesus

I have really been thinking hard on what my next post should be about. I want to be a positive person and at the same time I remind myself that the number one reason for this blog was for me to get my feelings out. To share them with women who understand and know what I feel. I have been crying a lot for the last few days. I think it happens because I try to hold back the tears. I think I do it because I don't want to look like I am having a pity party for myself. I know people feel bad, and at the same time they don't know that the grief actually grows while time goes on. I guess I should say it does for me. Sometimes I have to just sit down and catch up to see where I am with my feelings. I try to hide it from others and at the same time I'm keeping them from myself. I feel like I am living and dying at the same time. If that makes any sense. As I go through each day there are little things that just set me off in my "tear" mode. This would be when my eyes well up with tears and then I realize that their are people around. Sometimes, I feel so full of anger, I just want to yell at the top of my lungs: "My son died!"  It just feels weird to keep going on with life. It is very hard for me to write about this next part. There is just a feeling of guilt that I walk around with. ( now my tears come pouring out ) I am really struggling with the fact that Isaiah had to die because they had to get the placenta out or I would die. Here we have this little boy, who is innocent and perfect, and has to come out of his mommy's warm belly and be put into the cold ground, because of a placenta that didn't implant right. I will never forget when my nurse gave me those four little pills to chew and swallow to start my labor. I cannot even begin to tell you the emotion that overtook my soul at that moment. Then they started pumping blood through two different IV lines (transfusions of blood) and another kind of medication to "help" get the dreadful "death" sentence on it's way. I apologize if I am getting to graphic, but this is what I think about on a daily basis. I am haunted by it. My mom was with me during my labor ( thank you mom, I love you) and I just remember crying out "I don't want to do this, I don't want him to die, I love him so much!!!!!!!!!"  I have prayed and asked God to give me something to put closure to my guilt. I know that Isaiah's life as well as my own, were in His hands that August night. God knew that this was going to happen before I had ever been placed in my own mothers womb. I love my children with everything that I am. They are my oxygen. The reason I get up in the morning and keep pressing on. God is my strength, peace, hope and love, my everything.  I can't imagine going through such a trial and not having the Lord as my rock. If I didn't choose to walk with Him daily, I would have nothing to offer. We are nothing without Jesus! Praise You Jesus.

Being Carried By Jesus,

Jennifer