Lioness is on the Rise

We are 22 days into 2011 and the roller coaster of emotions still persists; joy to be around family and cherished friends; appreciation for well-intentioned work; ability to wake every day with the opporunity to make that day better than the one before, and then the empty feeling that mothehood will escape me. I know better to harbour the latter thought; we manifest our thoughts and I'm sure that negative energy is multiplying itself the more I think of it.

For today, I'll enjoy being an aunt, cousin and big sister to many.

The new thought is this lioness is on the rise!

I Don't Know About Tomorrow....but I Know Who Holds My Hands

I don't know about tomorrow
I just live from day to day
And I don't borrow from its sunshine
for its skies may turn to grey
And I don't worry about my future
for I know what Jesus says
and today He walks beside me
for He knows what lies ahead...

Many things about tomorrow
I don't seem to understand
but I know, I know I know who holds tomorrow
and I know who holds who holds my hand

To believe in these words is to KNOW God exists and He has control of this inexplicable situation. Today was peaceful; amidst my immediate family and their tender love (missed my baby sister, other siblings and special people in my life), but the vacancy of my loss and the emptiness of uncertainty that I may not rejoice at motherhood flooded my eyes with tears as I drove home this evening.

Still I ask God why Zen was spared? For what reason could she not have enjoyed being fawned over this Christmas season by many who would have loved her simply because she was my child.

I know this...this "work" I'm doing on and for myself will perhaps make these moments more bearable. I just ask God for patience; supposedly I have a 'good constitution' and have endured what most have crumbled over. But my will to hold, love, share, teach, rear, mold, embrace, smile at, discipline, enlighten and dare I say love again my child will fortify my weak moments.

For my children, I hear them sing this to me this night...so sad, yet so uplifting...I love you all Jade, Rohan, Zen...and the others we didn't name. Daddy and I love you and all you would have become. I know he would have rejoiced at you births!

Don't cry for me,
don't shed a tear,
the time I shared with me will always be
and when I'm gone, please carry on
don't cry for me
No one is to blame,
my death was meant to be,
don't carry guilt or shame
the reasons why I came soon you'll see
so don't cry for me
don't shed a tear
the time I shared with you will always be
and when I'm gone, please carry on
Don't cry for me....


Good night, May God's grace touch your hearts and fill them with expectation, hope, will, determination and love...it's always darkest before the dawn. I will be there beside you and we will smile knowing we made it through this test to testify!

From my heart to yours...Merry Christmas...

Getting Out of My Own Way

I've been thinking of how "broken" I feel, almost at the point of disrepair (but I know better and that thought would shame people who encourage me); however, the 'little voice' inside of me refuses to say with confidence that "Yes, you ARE broken!" Instead, that voice and I debate the full range of feelings I experience daily: lethargy; morose; weepy; hopeless (even though I give good face when people ask my outlook on tomorrows); unmotivated; stuck; emotionally, mentally and even physically 'heavy', and relatively alone.

For fear of seeping into an irrevocable mien, I must combat these feelings and essentially get out of my own way. When I step aside, assess the roads I've travelled to arrive 'here', I recognize they warrant these feelings. Perhaps I'm not broken, instead, just in need of healing.

Healing - the restoration of damaged living tissue to normal function...sounds like a plan I'll sign up for! The alternative is saddening and debilitating...stay tuned.

Not living for approval

This may seem unrelated to 'Chasing Motherhood', but as I type, I realize it's not such a disjointed matter. The more we try to please, appease and seek someone's approval, the further away we are from realizing our true destiny. Throughout moments in my 41-year-old life, I've allowed (we must take onus for our mistakes, even at the hands of others) other people close and dear to me to impose their views, perceptions and ideals on me. In an attempt to always please others and be sublimely loyal, I've discounted my own feelings and beliefs. I often wonder where I would be in life had I listened to my heart and followed my footsteps when they pointed in the direction of my heart.

Today, I vow to remain true to me...even the most well-intentioned friend, lover, family member doesn't truly deserve to keep me in their 'box of ideals' when it goes against what I know to be true. We can agree to disagree without spoiling each other and destroying what we've built. And if that relationship has to suffer because we differ (on any matter that doesn't cost us our lives or harm us in any way) then perhaps it's worth investigating how well-intentioned said person is. Agree?

It saddens me to distance myself from those whose approval I have not garnered; but it's more saddening to realize that my friendship is not as important and cherished for anyone who is willing to discard it because we disagree.

Today is a new day and God's approval will open doors and a new season of growth and opportunity when I seek His approval, and follow my heart.

Be blessed...today and always.

The Test before Testimony

After bouts of wondering why motherhood has escaped me thus far, today I realize God's purpose, God's choice for my life has not yet been seen. He is putting me through certain 'tests' so that perhaps my 'testimony' will encourage, inspire, teach, mentor and motivate others. Again, I don't yet know my 'testimony', but I am closer to accepting that these trials are like my DNA and essentially make me who I am preparing to be. At age 41, I thought I would have 'arrived' at my metaphorical destination, but we all travel at varying speeds and through different paths.

I'm reading "Beyond Grief: A Guide for Recovering From the Death of A Loved One" by Carol Staudacher. I encourage you to read it as well and allow it to help you understand that what you're feeling is real, understandable, and allowed.

Let your tests become your testimony...the other side can only be better!

Enough is Enough

So, in one 'normal' work day of 11 hours, two unrelated people bring up my last pregnancy. One, genuinely asked the well-being of either my son or daughter...he had seen me with my growing belly before I left work for complete bed rest at four month. So, he only thought that I would naturally have returned to work around this time (October, some three months after giving birth). When I told him of Zen's fate, he was speechless. Earlier in the year, he and his colleague, constituents whom our office assists, were overjoyed at my pregnancy. There I was, left to comfort him while he has shaken me out of my focused disposition on today's workload.

Hours later, while driving home I decided to return a family friend's (like an aunt) call...20 minutes into our chat she tells me of a couple's (she's Guyanese like me, he's Nigerian like Zen's dad) challenging, but miracle birth after having lost twins. At first, I felt the immediate pang of empathy when I heard of their loss, but instantly delighted when God blessed them with their son. As the story went on, I began to withdraw mentally. I no longer wanted to hear about how well their now 2-year-old boy was thriving. Of course, I was pleased for them. But I had already expressed that joy and now, I felt a tinge of jealousy and began wondering why I couldn't have been so blessed. Zen was perfect...she, too, should have been a 'miracle' left to thrive against the odds. She, too, should have been in an incubator for months so that we could enjoy her progress.

I really wanted to lash out and say 'I've had enough listening to this story; I no longer care about this and think your well-intentioned story of hope and miracle is now bothersome and burdensome. Please be quiet and say good night.' Instead, I listened and allowed myself to be more uncomfortable...

Days like today aren't uncommon. Almost daily someone asks about my pregnancy and the whereabouts of my baby. Most times I handle it with grace; other times, I am frozen and instantly tear.

All the time I wonder why Zen had to be spared.

Mute Off

So, it's been five months since my Zen, our Zen, was returned to God's care. And, at that instance, I truly lost the desire to speak. My words, all my pleading with doctors, nurses, surgeons, social workers and other maternal / fetal specialists were seemingly in vain. The pleasure of sharing her impending birth with her daddy, her grandmom, her aunts / uncles, cousins and my friends no longer had an environment to thrive. What could I have possibly said that wasn't blatantly evident? She was gone and so were my words.

I sought "comfort" in being able to pen my thoughts and feelings; emailing my support circle was cathartic (just as blogging is now!). My emails elicited tears and drew readers closer to our devastating loss...but this too was short-lived. And when I thought speaking to those closest to me wouldn't be an obstacle, I then knew I had to endure the process of having lost my 'voice' and asking and expecting everyone to understand.

Well, I'm making the choice to deactivate my 'mute' button! I owe it to those who love me to hear from me, to ensure that I'm alive and well, and that I am hurting as well. It's natural; it's expected; it's understood.

What I am grateful for is the ability to enable my 'mute' button when I needed to wallow and revel in my silence. During this time my other senses were heightened.

Now, the Mute is off...I look forward to speaking with you soon!