Ugly Cry-Face

Throughout this process I have been bowled over numerous times by tears. In times of particular intensity I tend to put on my "ugly cry-face." My family and friends are probably familiar with this face. It's not pretty.

Needless to say, today ugly cry-face came out in the car. The Fray came on the radio and as a person who listens to lyrics of music, I tuned in. And then it started. The ugly crying. I actually had to pull over. It climaxed with the mention of "her."

The Fray's "You Found Me" is about what I am guessing someone's search for God in a time of crisis. A situation I am certainly familiar with in my current predicament. Each day as I search for sense in this horrible event in my life, I continually ask for the support of God...and I tend to find myself asking where He was when my world stopped spinning three weeks ago.

They say God makes everything happen for a reason...and that's all well and good and I am sure it's true. But many times I wondered where He was when I needed him during those unimaginable moments. And where He has been since. "Carrying me" as the old proverb suggests? Watching as I weather this storm?

There are moments of clarity and confidence where I think I have found Him, but it is hard to be sure. Needless to say, this song touched me in a very vulnerable place and sometimes song lyrics can describe my feelings better than I can.

Here they are...

[Verse 1]I found God
On the corner of First and Amistad
Where the west
Was all but won
All alone
Smoking his last cigarette
I said, "Where you been?"
He said, "Ask anything".

[Verse 2]
Where were you
When everything was falling apart?
All my days
Were spent by the telephone
That never rang
And all I needed was a call
That never came
To the corner of First and Amistad

[Chorus 1]
Lost and insecure
You found me, you found me
Lyin' on the floor
Surrounded, surrounded
Why'd you have to wait?
Where were you? Where were you?
Just a little late
You found me, you found me

[Verse 3]
In the end
Everyone ends up alone
Losing her
The only one who's ever known
Who I am
Who I'm not, who I wanna be
No way to know
How long she will be next to me

[Chorus 2]
Lost and insecure
You found me, you found me
Lyin' on the floor
Surrounded, surrounded
Why'd you have to wait?
Where were you? Where were you?
Just a little late
You found me, you found me

[Bridge]
Early morning
The city breaks
I've been callin'
For years and years and years and years
And you never left me no messages
Ya never send me no letters
You got some kinda nerve
Taking all I want

[Chorus 3 and outro]
Lost and insecure
You found me, you found me
Lyin' on the floor
Where were you? Where were you?
Lost and insecure
You found me, you found me
Lyin' on the floor
Surrounded, surrounded
Why'd you have to wait?
Where were you? Where were you?
Just a little late
You found me, you found me
Why'd you have to wait?
To find me, to find me

Grief

The dictionary defines the word "grief" as "keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret." I searched the definition because I was and am convinced I am dying. No word so small can even begin to describe what is happening to my mind, my heart and my soul. I thought for sure my current state went beyond the boundaries of such a tiny word, a word with such specific implications for behavior. I thought for sure this word only applied to situations where there is some kind of script for handling them- the loss of a parent, a natural disaster, etc. Situations that most people go through and can relate to. I had been convinced that there was a specific word that would apply to my complex situation- the word "grief" did not seem to cover it.

It seemed unfair that there wasn't a protocol attached to this word that was supposed to sum up my feelings. How does one handle a situation that most people don't even talk about? The words "failed pregnancy," "stillborn," or "pregnancy loss" are taboo and unwelcome in our world. Not only was I facing a situation that no one talks about, but I was facing a unique situation within those confines. And although it exists, most people don't encounter women who have suffered second trimester losses- it's so uncommon that even most doctors consider it to be rare or impossible. "You're past twelve weeks- you're fine! What are you worried about? If a baby makes it past twelve weeks it's pretty much a guarantee." Um no, no it's not. I am living proof of that...and my daughter, Quinn Westlynn Cunha? Her short life is proof of that too. Thinking back to hearing those words from one doctor surfaces a rage inside of me that I am actually scared of.

So, not only am I "grieving" in an arena that most people don't even mention...losing a pregnancy...a BABY... is considered "silent suffering"...but even within that arena I am in a situation that most Americans don't even think is possible. Losing a baby in the second trimester is as likely, to some people, as Barack Obama being a U.S. citizen or the Holocaust ever actually happening.

Beyond that, what does one do when the word "grief" doesn't cover the array of emotions coursing through my heart and body in the wake of this? How do you recover from something so unexpected and what some would consider "impossible?" There isn't a script or even suggestions for how to overcome this unique situation. On one hand I think about the daughter I have lost- her perfect hands and feet...her nose a miniature version of her Daddy's- and the breath is ripped right out of me. I have lost a daughter, there is no getting over that. On the other hand I am also "grieving" so many other things. Questions of "why"- "why me" or "why did this happen" plague my every waking moment. Fear for my future incapacitates me daily. Will I ever have kids? Is there something wrong with me? Can I face a future without kids? Even if I have moments of hope that I could get pregnant again soon I am then filled with dread- how would I face another pregnancy after having been through what I have been through? How would I be able to function knowing that one could end so suddenly and horribly just as this one did? Can my body, mind and spirit handle another loss should it happen again?

Mostly though my "grief" manifests not in the big questions and obvious pain that would come from the above situations, but rather when I do the simplest and smallest things. Of course it hurts to see pregnant women, baby clothes, or hear someone has just learned they are pregnant or has just had a child. However, this "grief" hits me harder when I think about this life and how much courage it will take to face it again after this. I get sad and tired thinking of the amount of energy it will take to be functional again in a world that is so unpredictable and cruel. Although it is irrational, the idea of facing each day knowing what can be ripped away from you at any moment- hopes, dreams, family members- is exhausting. Now I am "grieving" the time when I woke smiling- never having known pain on this level. I grieve the loss of my spirit, my faith and my happiness because at this point they are lost to me and I fear a world without them.

So yes, according to the dictionary I suppose the word "grief" does apply to my current state. What the definition fails to mention is the all-encompassing effect of the grief on my spirit. It doesn't mention that I am lost and afraid because I know I will never be the same and I am scared of the world that has brought this pain in my lap. I am afraid to love as hard as I once did, afraid to feel as deeply as I once did. I can sense the hard shell already forming over my heart. Perhaps that is what I am "grieving" the most- the loss of the "me" that loved without abandon. I know one should not live life with fear in one's heart but when I peek inside my own the walls I have already started building to protect myself show how fearful I am. Fearful to face this world that has asked me to "grieve" so deeply.

Right now all I can do is trust that God did this for a reason and be brave while I wait for that reason to be revealed to me. It is in the waiting that I find myself wishing for a script to follow- to guide me out of this nightmare and back into the waking world where I can love again without fear.