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Mostly, I pray...

12:05:00 PM Posted In , , Edit This 2 Comments »
I'm so far past overwhelmed at this point that I can't even see "overwhelmed" anymore. My pregnancy is nearing the end and while that's amazing because we've made it this far; it also sucks. I want it to be over because I'm in so much pain and I can't seem to find any relief. But I don't want it to be over because I feel like I haven't had a decent chance to really enjoy this pregnancy. It feels as if every moment has been about everything and everyone else. And the few moments that weren't about everything and everyone else, were spent trying to figure out "should we call", "should we go in".

I'm tired. I'm stressed. I don't even really know which way is up anymore.

I go to bed every night and I pray. I pray that God will give me more patience. That tomorrow we won't have massive meltdowns every hour, how about every two hours? I pray that Gavin will not physically lash out at Elliott Richard because Elliott had the audacity to love him. I pray that Elliott Richard will finally realize that he cannot touch, cuddle, snuggle or even talk to Gavin. I pray that his sense of self-preservation will kick in and he will learn to avoid Gavin. I pray that the next day won't be as exhausting as the one before. I pray that God will help me to find a way, any way to make it work with three boys. I pray that we haven't dug ourselves in too deep. I pray to make it through one more day pregnant with Tiny. Then I pray that Tiny comes soon because I don't know how much longer we can keep going like this. I pray that God will show me the way and be obvious about it because I'm so tired that subtleties are lost on me right now. I pray that God will just tell me what Tiny's name is meant to be; because we are struggling to find one and that's just one more thing on the pile right now. I pray that Tiny will be "typical" because I don't know that we could handle another child "with something more" and Elliott Richard deserves to have a sibling he can relate to. I pray that if I am to have Tiny early, that it's also obvious. I need a gush of fluid or contractions every 3 minutes apart. Anything that screams "This is it!" and leaves no room for guessing.

Mostly, I pray for help. Over and over again. "God, please help me." I pray for it until I fall asleep.

Sometimes I wonder if God can hear me. Other times I know he must hear me because I scream it inside my head. I scream it so loudly that my head hurts. A piece of my heart breaks with every scream. Surely God can hear that. Surely he must know how absolutely terrified I am. How I'm terrified I will miss a subtle change in my pregnancy. A change that if caught would mean Tiny lives. But once missed, means he is lost to us forever. Surely he must know how I think of myself. How everyone proclaims to see this wonderful, giving mother and all I see is a failure. I failed to protect Gavin from the abuse. I failed to protect him after we left, which was my sole purpose in leaving - to protect Gavin. How I fail everyday to find a level on which to relate to Gavin. How I fail to accomplish everything that needs done. How I fail to be strong enough, smart enough, calm enough. Surely he can hear my cries begging him to make me more. Make me better. Make me stronger. Make me more. Surely God knows how much we need him. How quickly we are drowning. Sinking faster than the Titanic. Surely he hears us and knows. "God, please help me."

People send me forwards. Funny forwards. Religious forwards. Heart-breaking fowards. I get them all. I read them sometimes. The religious ones always give me a moment to pause and think. Grandma Gene sent me one weeks ago. It showed a man walking and he was hit by a tiny pebble. But to that man, that tiny pebble might as well have been a boulder. He stops and he turns around and screams. He screams because he's had enough. He screams because that pebble got through and while the pebble was tiny to God, it was huge to the man. He screams until he notices Jesus standing there. Shielding the man from all the other hundreds of pebbles and boulders and stones that are being thrown. Jesus looks down at the man and says, "Sorry, I must have missed one."

I get it. For every pebble, for every boudler, for every stone that we are hit with; God is shielding us from many, many more. I get the meaning of it. I don't feel it. But logically, I get it. I just wish I could feel it too. I wish the few that get through, didn't feel so big and life altering.


Lola said...

Matthew Parker G.

Do you know we're on our 9 year anniversary? We've been through so much with each other, all the good, and all the bad, which unfortunately there seems to be more of. We both ask why but don't necessarily get answers. And with all the bad I understand why you feel the way you do. But to those of us looking in you are no where near anything failure like. All you DO is protect Gavin. We all do the best we can with what we have in life. And while it may not always seem like it you and Rob are doing an amazing job with your family.

Apple said...

Lizze, I can't begin to speak for God, but maybe He wants you to see yourself as He sees His wonderful creation, His child.

I'm sorry everything is so overwhelming and I wish I could help. But, I'll join you in prayer.

Ah...true love...

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