FIERCE Friday: A mother's love

I want to tell you a story.  It isn't my story, it is Wendy's story, but it has one that has lived in my heart since the moment I met this amazing woman.

Wendy and I went to University together.  No, not the first time around, the second, so we have known each other for oh, about 6 years.  I met Wendy and her husband Michael in one of my classes.  We hit it off immediately and enjoyed many coffee dates over the next two years.  One of the things that Wendy and I had in common was that we were both 'mature' students.  Well, I don't know how mature we were, but we were definitely older than most of our classmates, by a few years anyway.  We were both married and enjoyed a fairly stable relationship with our respective mates.  That was why, when she unexpectedly found out that she was pregnant towards the middle of our last year, she was delighted, ecstatic even.  I shared in her excitement (I had a bit of baby-brain myself at the time) and much of our conversation centred around her burgeoning belly.

When she lost the baby, on the morning of a final exam no less, she was understandably devastated.  I was sick for her.  I felt so helpless.  I had had a miscarriage as well, about 10 years previous, but I knew that it wasn't the same.  She and Michael were desperate to become parents, this baby was so very wanted and so very loved.

Another trait that Wendy and I share is that she wears her heart on her sleeve.  She was very open and honest about her feelings, and from what I recall, it made some of her friends a bit uncomfortable.  In my own life, I have had a similar experience when bearing my raw emotions openly.  Our society seems to back away from vulnerability.

A short time later, I found out that I was expecting Chephren.  This was a slightly unplanned pregnancy as well but we were completely ecstatic.  Over the moon.  I was bursting with joy and excited to share my news with the world.  When we started telling our friends, my heart sank.  Wendy.  How the heck was I supposed to tell her?  I so desperately didn't want to hurt her, however I knew that I had no other choice but to tell her the truth.  She deserved to know and I wanted to tell her in person.  We went for lunch, and when I told her she was happy for me, although through her smile I could see her pain.

Right after we graduated, Wendy and Michael moved out to Chilliwack, BC to take teaching jobs.  Wendy and I stayed in touch, mostly through Facebook.  I was so glad to see her and Michael starting fresh, hoping that this would help with the healing they so badly needed.  I secretly hoped that they would get pregnant again, and soon!

Some time later, she found out she was pregnant again, and because I was finding out on Facebook, I knew that she was confident that this pregnancy would stick.  It did 'stick' and I watched her belly grow and her whole being glow through the pictures that she shared.  Around the time her baby was due, I was checking regularly to see if her miracle baby had made her way into the world yet.

When I found out about Luka, I was completely shocked and utterly devastated.  Trent and I held each other and cried for them.  For Luka.

Luka was born with a rare genetic chromosomal condition, Trisomy 18, and lived only three days.

I won't tell you what has happened since then, because if you are interested, you can read about it on Wendy's blog.

Part of Wendy's journey has been to share her story.  In my opinion (and YES, I know that this isn't the path to healing for everyone), Wendy's ability to stand in the truth of her story and share it with others is a tremendous act of SERVICE.  When we are suffering, so many of us believe that we are all alone, that we are the only ones.  In her darkest hour, Wendy reached out towards the light and in doing so, she has invited others to follow her back to the light as well.

I hope that you can see now why I chose Wendy to be featured on FIERCE Friday, however, the other part of this story is FIERCE as well....

You see, Wendy is pregnant again.  She has made it official on Facebook (no doubt a good sign).

To me, there is nothing more FIERCE than this act of surrender.  She has made herself completely vulnerable... again.  To some small degree, I can relate with this sense of vulnerability... as it is created simultaneously with the child itself.  As soon as you conceive a child, your heart is open, it is exposed.  You will forever walk around with a piece of your heart that lies outside of you, because it lives on in your child.

And it is SO worth it.  And yet as a mother I can tell you that it is BRAVE, it is COURAGEOUS, it is FIERCE.

Thank you Wendy, for sharing your story, for sharing your life, for sharing your journey.

So much love to you, Michael and that amazing child in your belly.  I can't wait to meet him/her.

On Grief and Loss

So, my grandmother (my stepdad’s mom) passed away on Monday.  It was the best case scenario really.  We had over a week’s notice (she began refusing treatment for a life-threatening and worsening condition) and therefore I got to say goodbye to her while she still knew who I was and we both knew that it was our last goodbye.  She was 85 and lived a full, if not difficult at times, life.  She has 7 living children (and 1 who has predeceased her), most of whom who are married, 15 grandchildren and 3 great-grandchildren. 

Given all of this, when I got the call on Monday morning I felt, well, prepared.  I felt at peace.  Imagine my surprise then, when I got on the phone with a friend on Thursday morning and started crying!  ‘This doesn’t make any sense!’ I kept repeating to my friend.  She laughed and said -- ‘you know Maren, our emotions and our thoughts aren’t made up of the same fabric.  In other words, you can’t reason away an emotion’.  Isn’t that so damn true?  

Even though my belief system is such that, ‘everything is perfect’ and that there really is no death, only transition to another form (or lack of form), I still feel grief, sadness, loss.  But there is a sense of grief with all major transitions isn’t there?  A new job, a new city, or a new house are examples that come to mind.  These types of life transitions can bring us a mixture of emotions - from excitement and hope to longing and sadness.  What is it that creates that sense of sadness, where does it come from?  

Perhaps the sense of loss we feel is from the space that is created by that transition.  What I am trying to say is what is gone is gone.  It’s over.  And what is to come hasn’t been created yet.  You haven’t started filling up that space yet.  So it’s empty... and isn’t that what grief is?  A feeling of emptiness?  Sometimes it takes a looooong time to fill up that space, such as when you lose a child, or a parent, or a close friend.  But eventually, that space will be filled, and you will feel whole again.  I am absolutely not saying that you will forget your loved one, because you won’t, not EVER.  But you won’t always feel the hole that was left by their departure.  I like to think that instead of a hole in your soul - you are left with an imprint.

Not surprisingly, this post has Divine Perfect Timing, as we are approaching the one-year anniversary of our dear friend Brent’s passing.  Now there is an imprint on my soul that I am forever grateful to have!  Gone but never forgotten my friend!

This is a bit of a heavier topic than I normally write about, but it is an important one.  Because grief and loss are inescapable.  They are part of the Human Experience... experiences that we were MEANT to have.  So when faced with any kind of loss, remember to be kind to yourself, honour your emotions and know that they don’t have to make sense!  And know, always, that ‘this too shall pass’...

   

RIP Marie Rose McConnell
March 13, 1927 - April 23, 2012

With love,

Marebare xoxo

Finding my way back...

It is frustrating and unfortunate that it can take losing someone (not just anyone) to make you realize that life is too short to waste.  I lost a friend a week ago today, and when I say friend, what I really mean is brother.  Brent Young was truly the essence of light, love and 'takin' it easy' and having him in my life is and has been a true honor. 

This devastating occurrence has caused me to re-evaluate a whole lot of things, but it has also had the benefit of re-connecting me with my other 'family'.  When Trent and I lived at COE for 2004-2005, we had the extreme privilege to have the opportunity to join the Nordegg family and despite having lived away from this family for the past 5 years, I still feel very much a part of this amazing group of people.  This is a group of people who are all living, as Brent did, 'all-in'.  I mean really, is there any other way worth living?  Brent would tell you that the answer to this is no way (so much so in fact, that he would probably be confused by the question!) 

The point that I am making here is that it is time for me to start my journey back to living authentically.  My five years out on the farm have served the purpose that they needed to serve, but it will soon be time to 'make a move', and return to a time where things were a lot more REAL.  Thank you Brent for lighting the way back to my true path... I will be forever indebted to you.  I miss you and love you, Shakakan Brother!