Nostalgia
I'm a perpetual purger. I have a deep need to clean the slate throughout my house every two to three months. It drives Ryan nuts...understandably. Honestly, it's a blessing and a curse. The latest project of mine has been to organize and order the basement. We have only lived here a year and it's already full. There is one room I've avoided touching or purging for months and I've been forced to face it.
The shelves of our laundry room are stacked to the ceiling with boxes of the boy's clothes and other accessories that I've saved in hopes there would be another child down the road. Since Ryan started chemotherapy and radiation, I have known that a third child may never come. This level of loss has taken me much more time to submit.
I have to say that, despite my endless nausea, I LOVED being pregnant. When those boys grew inside of me, I felt my purpose as a woman was finally fulfilled. I was made to bring forth life. It was miraculous feeling kicking, moving life inside of me. The boys relied on my body to live and grow. The deepest parts of me have longed to experience that fulfillment once more.
Facing all these bags of clothes has been overwhelming, and going through them is emotional and all consuming. It has taken me hours. Not to mention the boys keep wanting to watch the "puppy movie" (translation: Marley and Me) while I sort their clothes. To avoid you thinking I'm a bad parent for letting my children watch a movie that is far too mature for them, let me reassure you that they only get to see about a third of the movie. Mostly, they like the scene when the puppy tears apart the garage...how relatable. Now circling back, I've been much more weepy than what is probably normal or necessary.
The memories that go with these clothes are difficult, yes. But there is a physical component to letting go of possessions that were part of a planned future, a planned future we won't likely have. Handing them over a counter or to a friend involves freely giving away what I had left of my hopes. Woof.
This is another facet in which the Lord's grace must be sufficient. Through the power of Christ, I'm feeling fuller and more complete with what I've been given, our two beautiful sons. Despite the suggestions of acquaintances, we have chosen not to take necessary/very expensive precautions to ensure the arrival of another child. I'm going to make a very bold statement here: "family planning" is a term for the disillusioned. We learned very early that all life is ordained by Christ, despite our extensive plans. Practically, Ryan isn't a capable father to two children. Right now, another child would add to the load on my shoulders. I wouldn't just be raising two children on my own, I would be raising three. In hindsight, the seeming loss of this dream has actually been God's mercy on us at this point in life. It has been made clear from the very beginning that this matter wasn't meant to take into my own hands. I'm surrendered to the fact that this one is under the Lord's authority. In that surrender, the pain that has resurfaced is being alleviated and redeemed.
The shelves of our laundry room are stacked to the ceiling with boxes of the boy's clothes and other accessories that I've saved in hopes there would be another child down the road. Since Ryan started chemotherapy and radiation, I have known that a third child may never come. This level of loss has taken me much more time to submit.
I have to say that, despite my endless nausea, I LOVED being pregnant. When those boys grew inside of me, I felt my purpose as a woman was finally fulfilled. I was made to bring forth life. It was miraculous feeling kicking, moving life inside of me. The boys relied on my body to live and grow. The deepest parts of me have longed to experience that fulfillment once more.
Facing all these bags of clothes has been overwhelming, and going through them is emotional and all consuming. It has taken me hours. Not to mention the boys keep wanting to watch the "puppy movie" (translation: Marley and Me) while I sort their clothes. To avoid you thinking I'm a bad parent for letting my children watch a movie that is far too mature for them, let me reassure you that they only get to see about a third of the movie. Mostly, they like the scene when the puppy tears apart the garage...how relatable. Now circling back, I've been much more weepy than what is probably normal or necessary.
The memories that go with these clothes are difficult, yes. But there is a physical component to letting go of possessions that were part of a planned future, a planned future we won't likely have. Handing them over a counter or to a friend involves freely giving away what I had left of my hopes. Woof.
This is another facet in which the Lord's grace must be sufficient. Through the power of Christ, I'm feeling fuller and more complete with what I've been given, our two beautiful sons. Despite the suggestions of acquaintances, we have chosen not to take necessary/very expensive precautions to ensure the arrival of another child. I'm going to make a very bold statement here: "family planning" is a term for the disillusioned. We learned very early that all life is ordained by Christ, despite our extensive plans. Practically, Ryan isn't a capable father to two children. Right now, another child would add to the load on my shoulders. I wouldn't just be raising two children on my own, I would be raising three. In hindsight, the seeming loss of this dream has actually been God's mercy on us at this point in life. It has been made clear from the very beginning that this matter wasn't meant to take into my own hands. I'm surrendered to the fact that this one is under the Lord's authority. In that surrender, the pain that has resurfaced is being alleviated and redeemed.
"Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand."
Proverbs 19:21
My heart is full.
Copyright 2014 ->Renee Sunberg
Copyright 2014 ->Renee Sunberg
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