Inappropriate

I've learned over the years that we all deal differently with trials, losses, pain, and worry. It took me a long time to understand that not everyone reacts the exact same way, or on the exact same timeline. When Joshua had surgery, Colby and I dealt very differently with the stress and worry of that time, and at times I felt as if we were living on different planets. It was a rough time, but with more strength for us on the other side than we thought possible.

There are no set rules for how to deal with loss or fear or worry. But there are some ways that do seem more inappropriate than others.

I remember sitting in the parking lot of Wendy's near the Children's Hospital the day we found out Josh would need life-saving surgery to repair his heart. It was impossible to process. It felt like I'd go insane trying to wrap my mind around what was going on and the necessity of this surgery. Colby and his mom and Joshua sat inside eating their food, which I'm sure tasted like sawdust, and I sat out in the car nursing my hungry 3 month old baby. And I called up my best friend, hoping she'd somehow tell me to pinch myself and call her back in the morning.

Instead she just listened as I sat there on the phone, laughing. Hysterically. Highly inappropriate.

I managed to squeak out a sentence here and there in between the hysterics, at times forgetting what I'd already said or restarting a sentence I'd just begun, and finally got the message across of what was going on. Somehow she saw past the laughter and the terse words and heard the fear that was gripping my heart. Forgiving me my impropriety, she talked around and around in circles with me until I grew calm, until I could breathe again. She understood at that moment there were only two options for me: falling into a million pieces, crying until my eyes were swollen shut and I was a mess needing to be scooped up off the ground, or... laughing inappropriately.

Laughter is good for the soul. It heals. It seals up old wounds and it breaks down the barriers of hurt feelings and offended spirits. I try to laugh at myself as much as possible - at my clumsiness, my imperfections, my mistakes, and yes, even my trials. Laughter helps me to fight back the tears.

I've been trying to find the humor in the little things that go on in my life, and write things that will make us laugh, but I know it's coming across a little stunted, and probably a little inappropriate considering the time in which it's been written.

Truth is, I've been very thankful for the tender care my husband has shown me in the past couple of weeks, and for his wisdom in this difficult space in time. It is because of those things that I can get out of bed in the morning and put my feet down one in front of the other. It's because I'm sharing the pain on that kind of level with him that I can pick myself up, look around, and try to find things that help both of us feel better.

So, yeah, I don't really mind if you find my attempts at being droll to be poor taste or indicative of my regard for that which was lost. Because we know that the truth is this: we loved and wanted very much the child we were expecting. While we are at peace with the path God has chosen for us, we also know it will be impossible in this world to replace the one who is missing and look forward with joy to the day an angel places this child back into our arms.