Living with Loss

Some people seem to live charmed lives, never being touched by the pain of loss. Others seem to get more than their fair share. Loss comes in all shapes and sizes - from the loss of a job, a home, a dream, to the loss of a parent, spouse, or child.

For those who know this pain, who have walked the road of loss, finding a way to live with the loss is a difficult road to walk. There are no quick fixes, or easy options. Every person's loss is unique, so although there are some generalities that can be gleaned, in the end, the only way to find a way to live with it is to walk the road.

These past few weeks I have had the privilege of walking the road with several others who have been doing a course at church. However, walking with others means being vulnerable, and my own losses have surfaced again...

In my life I have lost a lot...

• my parents divorced when I was still young, which split my family
• friends with whom I have no real contact anymore
• I have been abused
• my first child...
• my third child...
• my dream career

and that's not counting things like losing my grandparents, my other elderly family members, nearly losing my dad to cancer...

In the grand scheme of things though, I still have a HUGE amount...

• an incredible husband
• two incredible living children
• a house
• a stable and secure job, that I actually enjoy
• both parents still alive, with an amazing step-mother
• a large extended family that loves me
• a car, clothes on my back, food in the cupboard

And, of course, that's not counting the blessing of being a child of God and all that goes along with that.

Yet, the blessings don't take the sting out of the things I have lost. The blessings make it possible to continue living, but the pain is always there, just under the surface. If you scratch a bit, it surfaces again. This past week I was reminded that these losses leave holes in my life, and periodically I fall back into the holes, and experience their depth and darkness. Time doesn't heal wounds. Instead, over time, we learn how to climb out of the holes so that we don't have to sit in them for weeks or months. It doesn't stop us falling into them though.

Does God cause natural disasters?

Before you read this post, please first go and read 5 God Excuses to Avoid After a Natural Disaster (Thanks to Dave Meldrum for sharing.)

Through losing Zoe this is the lesson I have learnt.  There are no easy answers in the face of natural disasters, or tragedies. God did not cause the death of these people. Instead, he weeps alongside those left behind.

So how do we make sense of natural disasters? I believe the answer lies in the "Butterfly phenomenon". Essentially, the world is inherently chaotic, unbelievably complex. For us to be able to track each event, and all of its ramifications, is impossible, even with the most advanced computer.

Because we cannot comprehend the width, depth, height and breadth of the natural events around us, and the complexity of their interactions, we cannot predict, nor can we adequately explain, why natural disasters occur. What we can say is that God is not behind them.

God is not powerless, nor is he capricious. He is all powerful, and all good. However, he is MUCH bigger than we can comprehend. We cannot know why he has not chosen to supernaturally prevent the disaster, except to say (rather inadequately) that sin has warped the natural realm as much as it has our own nature and our relationship with God, and that somewhere therein, lies the reason.

So how do we respond? We do not give up, we do not accuse God, we do not turn our backs on faith, we do not condemn. This feels inadequate. We are not accustomed to being powerless, especially in this age of technology where we can control the very temperature of the air around us. To be reminded that there is something out there bigger and more powerful than we are leaves us feeling small, helpless, inconspicuous.... and we don't like it.

Instead, we respond in love, with tears. There can be no other response. We tread gently, we do not offer pat answers just to fill the space, we weep with those who weep, we mourn with those who mourn, we allow our hearts to be broken as Christ's is, we become Christ's hands and feet as we offer the comfort we ourselves have received from Christ himself. THIS is why Graeme and I continue to run Born Sleeping (or see our website), even though it is heart breaking, and impossibly hard at times.

For if Christians will not step up and be Christ to a weeping world, how can we expect the world to hear the good news that this tragedy (whatever it might be for you) is not the end; this is not all there is; this does not need to define who you are, that life in all abundance is still possible?

Have we cracked the nod?

I've just had such an exciting phone-call. Many of you who have been reading this blog for a few years will know that G and I run a support group for parents who have lost a child through miscarriage, stillbirth or neonatal death, based in Cape Town, but for all South Africans. For a long time, we pushed on doors at various maternity hospitals and wards, to publicise our work, to no avail. We had several positive meetings with various people, but since then, we've heard nothing at all.

In retrospect, it was probably a good thing, as I doubt we could have coped with much more than we were doing at the time. On average though, we get about 4 or 5 contacts a month, several of whom take it no further - just needing to know that there is someone there if they need it. However, we've been having about one meeting a month of late, so things are slowly picking up.

Which leads me to the phone call I've just had. I don't usually answer my phone for numbers I don't recognise, but for some reason tonight I decided to answer. On the phone was a trauma counsellor who works for Discovery, wanting to know whether he could refer someone to us!! I'll skip the bit about the woman involved, and jump straight to the bit I found exciting. I asked him how he got our number, and he said he's not sure. He didn't know of anyone offering a support group for stillbirth, so he contacted a friend at Cape Town municipality, who then contacted someone else, who then contacted someone else, who just 'happened' to have our number (not even our website url or email!).

Now I ask you - if that isn't Providence, then what is?

So - it seems that news of our small support group and the work we do is slowly starting to filter around the city. This thrills me beyond words! Not because I want to be famous for anything, but because it means that the men and women who are in deep distress can be reached, and comforted, and given hope. I'm not expecting much to change in the immediate future, really, because our experience is that Saffa's don't like to talk about death, or about losing a child.

Yet, just knowing that the right people out there are becoming aware of us, and can refer others to us, means that I know that our work of bringing hope and support and comfort to these very broken people will increase, and that excites me intensely.

Heartbroken

Several of our friends around the world are currently undergoing fertility treatment of one sort or another in an effort to conceive.

Tonight we heard that one couple, who were 9.5 weeks pregnant, have lost their baby. It just breaks my heart. They so badly want a baby.... and everything seemed to be going so well for them....

There are no words, really. Losing a child... Well, nothing compares.

Guys, I know you read the blog regularly, so in addition to our email and FB message, I wanted you to know again just how much you are in our thoughts and prayers at the moment. Thinking of you on Monday in particular. You know where we are if you need to talk.

Born Sleeping

Things are definitely starting to take off! While it breaks my heart that it is, because that means there are people suffering as we have, it also thrills me because now we have the opportunity to give to others some of the support and love we received when we lost Zoe.

Over the past few weeks, we've been getting more and more people contacting us to ask for advice in helping their friends or family members who have suffered a stillbirth or miscarriage. Over the weekend, we also got our first call from a couple who lost their baby just over a week ago and need some help.

I don't want to go into details, because I think this couple have a right to privacy, especially in their time of grief. However, my heart really does break for them - they also lost their baby very late term, and it was their first. For those who pray, please pray for this couple. God knows their names, and their situation. Please also pray that Graeme and I are able to be wise and loving and supportive, and that we don't make too many mistakes along the way!

Born Sleeping

Born Sleeping is seriously about to take off!

Graeme and I met with some psychologists at a local private hospital about starting a support group. They don't have the time and resources to run one, and we don't have the contacts to really get the group off the ground, so this is a match made in heaven. We're going to start with one group, and take it from there. All very exciting.

Another exciting development is that we've started a website as well: http://bornsleeping.googlepages.com/. It's still under construction, so some of the links don't work, but that won't take long to fix. It's very exiting to see it finally starting to come together, after all these months!

Memorials

As Monday draws nearer, I find myself becoming more apprehensive. I realised tonight that I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be feeling. I miss Zoe, and I always will, but I'm not as broken-hearted as I was. Yet, at the same time, the thought of scattering her ashes makes me sweat... part of me never wants to let go of them, but part of me recognises that in order to get more closure I have to let go.

Sigh!

So we've decided to take Monday morning off on our own to walk and reflect, and then do a little scattering ceremony where we plant an Indigophora with the family later in the afternoon. That way, we get to do both - grieve in private and with family. Both are important, I think. I just hope it doesn't feel artificial and weird.

I can't remember how much I've mentioned about Born Sleeping - the group that Graeme and I have started here in SA. After months of near-silence, suddenly over the past week or so we've had several emails. Tonight we had an email from a researcher. Apparently a well-known SA author is writing about her experience of stillbirth, and the researcher is putting together a list of resources for her.

Hmm.... part of me is jealous, because I really want to write about my experience, but have neither the time nor the money to spend on that project. Part of me is thrilled that someone is writing about it again in SA. Tertia Loebenberg (columnist for the Times) wrote about her experience a while back (was it only last year that her book was published?), but it's always good to keep this story in the public eye, as it were.

Anyway, I am getting really excited by the increase in email traffic we've had. I really hope this signals the start of something, rather than just being a blip on the radar.