I get asked all of the time how I was able to “stay so strong” and overcome our tragedy. From friends and church members, to you guys right here in the RATR Community.

I don’t know why I’ve never talked about this before, but it’s been on my heart so I thought I would share.

First of all, I have to clear the air and say that I wasn’t always so strong. I had lots of moments where I fell completely apart. My poor, gracious husband was the victim of many nights of screaming and lashing out. Not at him, but worse: at God.

I also have to tell you that everyone deals with grief differently. This I have learned in my own journey. And, there seem to be many different stages of grief, and some repeat. Today, I have no idea what stage I’m in, but it may or may not be the same stage I’ll be in tomorrow. I’ve also learned that this is ‘normal’.

Some people say grief and loss get better with time. Well, I’m here to tell you that isn’t the case. The stages just change, and you simply learn to cope better. To control it a little more. To not blame God. To not lose it in the middle of the grocery store.

I honestly, just now feel like the fog is lifting from my life. I spent pretty much the entirety of Elizabeth’s first year in a pretty dark haze. I didn’t realize it ‘til probably last fall, or maybe even the beginning of this year. But, I lived 100% for her. Every day, I went through the motions, but I was pretty reclusive. I hated going anywhere (I still deal with this). And I neglected myself – big time! I just recently feel like things are turning around. I can see light where it was once dark.

But Jaima, you seemed so strong. I saw you stand at your mom’s casket 13 weeks pregnant and hold it all together. Knowing how much your mama meant to you, I don’t know how you did that. Friends, I have to say that in those moments, I somehow was overcome by a surreal peace that passes understanding. From the moment we got on the highway on the way to the hospital until the moment my dad and Andrew cast the first few shovels of dirt on their coffin, I had peace. I cannot explain in any other way, except to try to describe it as if God had literally picked me up and placed my heart and mind in a totally different realm. It was only my physical body standing in that funeral home. I truly believe, to protect me, and my precious sweet girl growing inside, that God didn’t allow me to be mentally and emotionally present during all of that.

And I don’t think I actually started grieving for a while. I lived in a state of shock for a good six months. It wasn’t until all of the ‘business’ was finally taken care of that I accepted what had happened and that they were not in fact returning.

Like I said before, I still had several moments of clarity where I would literally fall apart. Often times it was in the privacy of my shower, others it was in full blown anger where I would literally scream. I remember the night it happened, Andrew and I were going to attempt a few hours of sleep (after all, we had just traveled 19 hours to get to Tennessee), he commented that, “God must have needed them for something big” and I yelled back, “but I need them”.

The day I finally had to take Mama’s Christmas tree and decorations down in mid January was another memorably horrible day. That was one of the hardest days I had. Thank God, my bffl and cousin were there to help me. Andrew had already returned to Connecticut and my dad had gone back to work to reclaim some normalcy. It was hell.

There were other moments like that too. Mother’s Day every year is pretty rough. Every year since, Andrew’s been the one to have to pick out cards for his mom and our grandmother’s. I cannot even go near the aisles without getting angry and sad. I lose it right there in the store every year.

And then there are the times where I see other girls having lunch or shopping with their moms. Or grandmothers playing or spoiling their granddaughters. Those times hurt the most. Knowing that Elizabeth doesn’t know that love.

Some days are better than others, but thankfully, now there are a lot more good days than bad.

I have several ways in which I dealt with my grief. They weren’t all healthy, but I think that’s pretty common when tragedy hits the way it did for us. With grief, you literally have to take it one day at a time. Sometimes one hour at a time. I, like always turned to God. I sincerely believe it was Him that filled me with peace and strength to face each day. Even though I was angry with Him at times, I knew He had it all under control. I knew essentially, that it was all His plan.

And as crazy as this sounds, I am beginning to understand a little more about His timing and plans, but that’s a whole different post. Perhaps I will share with you more about dealing with grief and the different stages it has in another post soon.

For now, I am going to close with this, one of my favorite verses that keeps me grounded.

It is my prayer, if you are in a stage of grief yourself, that you are filled with peace.

And, I hope that you have had a great weekend. Come back this week for our first giveaway.

xoxo!