Emotionless & Pregnant: An oxymoron?

The repetitive question since the accident (in which my entire life fell completely apart, I might add) has been, “How are you doing?”. Many people have told me how “strong” I seemed, while others murmured how they couldn’t believe I was dealing “so well”.

First, when strong is all you have to be… Well, you have to be.

Second, of course this isn’t how I ever ever intended on spending the first seven months of my pregnancy. Yes, my life is absolutely upside down and backwards. And barely tied together with a thin piece of not-even-waxed dental floss. But, being the woman my mother raised me to be, I must make due. I must keep things in line and flowing appropriately – just the way she would have done. No, it’s definitely not easy, but somehow things are falling (although verrrrry slowly) into place.

Third, and probably most important, I am a God-fearing, all power-surrendering, faithful, child of His (on most days). As cliche as it is to even think, He never promised it would be easy. He did promise He would never give us more than we could bare (even though I’d hate to find out what could ever be more to bare than all of this).

Probably my most favorite cousin of Moms took me to lunch back in January, and I’ll never forget something she said. She told me as she watched me from a chair in the funeral home’s chapel stand at the head of Mom’s casket for two days straight she wondered how I could do it (without many tears), knowing the amount of love and friendship we had for each other. She said she then remembered doing it for her Ma, and remembering that it was as if God had taken her someplace else, a place of safety, until she was ready to deal. She said it was as if it was only her body standing at the casket. And, that is exactly what it was like.

And I honestly believe, He still has me in that safe place. Maybe that along with the hundreds of people that say they are still praying for us, is the reason that I am truly getting out of bed each morning.

Trust me, in the past I could have never ever imagined losing Mama. Especially not on the same day as my 18 year old brother, whom were both suppose to be surprised 2 days later on Christmas morning with the news I was 3 months pregnant. It made me sick to think about it. I remember a couple of my friends losing a parent, and I would sob at the though of losing one of mine. And never, had I considered having to bury my only sibling.

Maybe I’m still in shock. I know the instant my chin hit the floor when they told us Mama didn’t make it (less than 2 hours after they told us about C.J.) I didn’t cry. And, in the almost 4 months since, I still haven’t cried too much. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I have had my moments. But really let go, and grieve, I have not done. And sometimes I really want to. It sometimes upsets me more at the fact that I’m not torn apart than the actual situation does. Yes, it does hurt terribly, but I’m almost emotionless.

I know that knowing neither of them ever have to suffer again (both of them did a lot during their time on Earth) and that they are both sooooooo much better off has definitely helped. Also, so many terrible things have happened since then that Mama would not have wanted to hear about or deal with has made it easier too.

I don’t know what it is exactly.

Another example of my emotionlessness… 2 weeks ago I lost lost my wedding band & toe ring. You think: toe ring, big deal, and kind of gross! But to me, my Maw-Maw bought it for me during the summer of 4th grade. I was 10, and NEVER (at least for no longer than a couple of hours) took it off since. Until, 2 weeks ago when my hands & feet decided to swell up (thank you, pregnancy hormones!). I took all of my rings off (my wedding band & engagement ring, toe ring, Maw-Maw’s ring, & one of Mama’s rings I’d been wearing) and put them in my wallet. Later, I went to put them away and discovered those two were missing. Normally, I’d be terribly upset, but I’ve almost been “Oh well, Andrew can buy me a new band” about the whole thing. What the heck?!? My husband is more upset about me losing it than I am?!?

So, Am I crazy for not grieving yet? Or is God truly protecting me? Will I ever really grieve?

I have no idea. For now, I’m just emotionless and pregnant.