A day.
24 hours.
1,440 minutes.
86,400 seconds.
A lot can change.
You've made it through your moment and now comes the real processing time.
And depending on what your moment was about, your processing time and approach will be unique to you.
But the first 24 are always the most significant.
Good moments and bad moments.
You're now fully aware that your world DOES look different.
Perhaps better, perhaps worse, but definitely different.
And tons of things affect this time period.
Your personality, your faith, your support system, your beliefs, your spirit, your…whatever.
Perhaps for the better, perhaps for the worse, but definitely different than another person (probably even different from someone who's experienced a similar huge moment).
Those around you will process your huge moment differently. For the obvious reason because it didn't directly happen to them and for the not so obvious…because we all process differently.
To say our 24 hours post huge moment has been all easy would be a lie.
To say our 24 hours post huge moment has been all bad would be a lie.
It's just been.
And it happened.
And there is nothing that will change those facts.
To dwell on it too long would be a waste of life's precious moments that are already too fleeting.
Like sand slipping through our fingers. Or trying to grab at running water.
Blame it on my line of work, blame it on the fact that my husband's profession has no certainties.
I simply refuse to dwell on the negative.
So, yes, while processing questions from nurses about what to do with the remains
(remains that I could have easily miscarried on my own based on the gestational age)
were difficult, my heart is all too aware of those women I know who have had or will have to bury their full-term babies.
Knowing that our day and our moment was nowhere near as painful as other women (and men's) moments helped me put my moment into perspective.
And, oh, how my heart ached for the specific people running through my mind.
Your angel babies are etched so deeply into my heart.
When you carry other people's stories with you, you give yourself a good dose of reality.
It's like I said yesterday, our blessings so far outweigh our heartache that I can't even be mad about it.
Please don't mistake my apparently easy processing of this whole sucky scenario as a lack of caring, I'm just trying to convey that I know it could be worse…and that puts this in the okay column in my head.
Our support system has shown up so wonderfully that I feel like they've carried our burden for us and with us and made it so much lighter.
From texts and calls and sweet messages to us and through my PR person (thanks Brittany!) and dinners and Facebook comments.
We feel and cherish each one.
Honestly, the most challenging part has been finding a new routine.
I've been focusing so hard for the past six months on preparing my body that I've forgotten what my world look like before.
From diet and exercise changes, to adding acupuncture, to even our nightly shot routine.
It's different now.
On a lighter note, I now have no excuse not go to the gym…bummer.
I can't even begin to explain all the ways in which I see God's blessing and grace in this whole scenario.
Take the timing of it.
For one, this happened two weeks before our Disney trip.
If all continues to go well, I will be feeling completely back to normal by then.
I'm grateful it didn't happen right before our trip or on our trip.
Take today.
Today was D&C day.
Not ever having one before used to be in my blessing column, so I need to find something to replace it.
I'm replacing it with the fact that I got to spend an entire unexpected day with my husband.
With compassion and love and forgiveness and all the best qualities of married life fully present.
And it was a gift.
And he has loved me so well.
The blessings are seared so deeply into my heart that I don't currently have the energy to even try to convey them all.
Percocet.
That might be the biggest blessing of them all!
