Aftermath

Sometimes I think I might be done with this blog. I'll sit down and know that I should put something on it, but just don't feel like it, and reality calls, so I stand up and walk away from the computer. Maybe it's because I don't feel as if anyone ever reads here anymore, or maybe I don't have the urgency to write like I used to. When I was walking through the immediate tragedy of Levi's death, I knew my words were being read, and I had to write them. I can't explain why, but it was a type of therapy for me. Now that it's been over 3 years, I no longer have that urgency nor does it seem others read as often. It's like a car wreck - traffic slows down so that everyone can stop to watch and see what happens to the people involved, but then you drive on and forget about it. Except for those involved in the accident. They don't forget. They continue to deal with the aftermath.

And that's what my life is now - the aftermath. We've picked up the pieces, we're putting them back together, but they'll never fit exactly the same again. Everything we do, every choice we make is a result of living through a tragedy. It changed us. Forever. Sometimes I believe I was changed for the better. It made me stronger and forced me to rely on God's strength. It made me value my family and friendships more because you never truly know how much time you have with a person. It made me realize just how much a miracle each of my living children are - from conception, through pregnancy, and finally birth. Sometimes I believe it changed me for the worse. I get genuinely upset when Levi gets left out of the family. I don't always congratulate people on new births and pregnancies. I feel pangs of jealousy at times when others announce new pregnancies and births. Most of the time, though, I wish I wasn't changed. I wish I had my 3 year old son running through the house creating chaos. But it will never be, and it hurts to dwell there, so I move forward.

On Friday, an 8 month old little girl was placed in our home. Our 2nd foster care placement. Levi is the reason that we bring these children into our home. Without his death, I never would have felt the need to allow my heart to open to children who need a safe place to live. But open it did because today, when I was told that this little girl will be returning to her mom tomorrow, my heart was a little bit crushed. I am so thrilled that for this baby, things will return to normal. But for me, I wanted a little more time. Aidan said, "It's ok, Mommy. We can just help another baby." How my heart melted when he said these words. I am constantly amazed at how much a child can teach me. I now understand when the Bible says to have the faith of a child. It's unquestioning and beautiful. And he is absolutely right. We can now help another baby. I just continue to pray that God will soften the blow each time these children leave. I also pray that He will quickly bring our forever child home because as much as I try not to envision adopting each child I hold, I can't help but wonder, "Is this my child?" Sometimes I don't want to do this foster care thing. It's hard and it breaks my heart more at times. But I know this is my calling. Levi did this. This is my aftermath.

So excuse me if I can't always find the words to type here. Some of my life, I'm not allowed to put here. Some of it, I don't want to put here. My pauses may be long at times. But do me a favor, and let me know you're still there because sometimes I still struggle with my aftermath.