Saturday, December 11, 2010

I'm not suicidal

Ok, I start with that title because I feel like that disclaimer is needed anytime I talk about “surviving” the loss of a child. So many times I have been told, “I don’t know how you are surviving. I wouldn’t be able to live through this” or something with the same basic idea. If I answer that person honestly, they interpret my answer wrong—hence the need for the disclaimer. For those of you that have felt this pain, you will understand that to say the things I am going to say. I want to be reunited with my child. I don’t desire nor intend to do myself any harm.

“Surviving” the loss of a child, first of all, happens even though you want to not. Believe me, I didn’t think I would “live” through such a loss either. I told Michael time and again that I wouldn’t make it. I couldn’t breathe through the loss of one of mine. Physically, I just knew I wouldn’t make it. I can barely make it through a day without them. I like my children close. I like to see them, smell them, touch them. I enjoy them. They are my life in so many ways. My assumption was that I clearly wouldn’t make it through. You hear these stories of mothers dying of heartbreak only a few excruciating months after they bury their child. I thought I would be one of those. I am jealous of them now.

It was on the evening of April 11th when my body first betrayed what my heart told it to do. My broken heart told it to stop breathing, but it didn’t. My broken heart said, let me rest and be with her again, but no go. My body continued. On many days, I survive because my body is stuck in this pattern of betrayal to my heart and desire. It just keeps breathing. I might be gasping, but the breath continues to come.

I have wrestled with God. I have had deep, painful, roll in the mud wrestles with God over the past few months. I have argued and complained. I have questioned and criticized. But I have also felt drawn to Him in an intimate way that I can’t even express. I have heard Him. I have felt Him. I haven’t liked it frequently, but He is here with me. I have argued that I need to be with her. She is my blessing. He has argued back that she is fine. I am still blessed and that they need me now.
At one point, before, I also thought I wouldn’t survive this pain. If I had only known…the pain is so much worse than I ever imagined, but here I am still. I have wished many times that my body wouldn’t have betrayed me that day or on the many days that followed where my heart cried out again and again that it was ready for reunion. I still have those days. Know that I don’t survive on my own nor do I survive because it is easy. I survive because I have no other choice sometimes. I look forward to heaven in a way I never did before. I don’t have all the answers, but while I am stuck here waiting, because my body keeps me here, I want to keep sharing what God is teaching me and the things Abigail has shown me…until I meet her again and come into His presence, which is the deepest desire of my heart.


  1. beautifully written. i can relate 100%

  2. Thank you for sharing!! Praying for you Brandy!

  3. Beautifully written my friend. Love and prayers continue as they have been.

  4. Thank you for sharing your hearts desire with us....I am blessed every day I know you more deeply and feel my heart getting closer to God and your family♥

  5. i love you so much. i know that your focus is not here on earth anymore but that doesnt mean you will hurt yourself. i am glad you are here for selfish reasons and because your family would surely not survive without you. i wish more than anything that Abigail were here too. praying for you as always.

  6. thank you again. your insight to a grief of this magnitude helps so many others of us handle lesser pain, because if God is helping you through this, He will help us too.

  7. Hi Brandy, My name is Elizabeth and our husbands work together--we met a few years ago at the corporate Christmas party. Our family has a son adopted from Korea. This is my first visit to your blog.

    Thank you for sharing your heart as you journey through the grief of losing Abigail. I think it helps me to hear you talk about it. Maybe it will help to make me more sensitive as I encounter others who have faced loss. So thank you for that.

    Also congratulations on your new journey. I will be honored to follow along as you grow your family through adoption!

  8. Thank you so much for sharing something so intimate. Lots of love and prayers for you all...