Walking With You - The Sea of Grief

Walking With You was created to help support those who have lost a child. Together we share our stories, helpful information, scriptures, encouraging words, prayer requests, and more. This week, we are sharing our first steps into the sea of grief.

Email sent 5/22 11:15am to family and close friends:

"I just don't have the energy to make all the phone calls, and cry over and over. I hope you'll forgive me for dropping this on you via email. Leila Mae Wasouf was born last night around 10:30. She survived for a few minutes, then passed. She was just beautiful, with my nose, Yasar's toes, and Andrew's pointy chin.

We had a very nice photographer come in and take pictures, which I'll be happy to share if you're interested.

We're arranging a private burial for her remains.

And we're just trying to deal with this now. I know everyone wants to reach out and help, or offer their condolences. And we appreciate that. But I think we just need some time to process and grieve.

~emily"

Reason number one of why it sucks to own your own business: there's no such thing as "time off". Every Friday during the school year we made upwards of 60 pizzas for student's lunches. This has always been something Yasar and I did together. But that Friday, he headed to the store, and I went home with Andrew. Alone.

I don't remember much of those first hours. But the graduation from tissues to a dishcloth stands out. Kleenex never really had a chance. And I was advised to not walk up stairs. Yet I hauled all the baby clothes, the pack & play, the swings, everything upstairs to the spare bedroom, where it remains even today.

And I remember our pastor showing up at the door, and just wishing he would go away. That everyone would just go away and leave me to my crying.

Two months later, and I still feel that way much of the time.

I'm not much for reading my Bible. It's a holdover from a bad Christian school experience, but I find it almost impossible to draw anything from scriptures. Thank God for His messages through music. I spent so much of those early days with my mp3 player plugged into my ears. Sobbing. Feeling so empty. Praying for Him to fill my hollow heart. Praising Him for Leila's life.

My computer became my second best friend. Reaching out to others going through this journey, and being so warmly embraced. You've all become my lifeline. Defining the new "normal". Praying for me. Sending e-hugs. Understanding. I hope you know how much that's helped me limp through this process.

My brother told me the other day that grief is not linear. And it got me started thinking about these stages, where I've been, where I've yet to go.

I'm afraid I've just dipped my toe into the sea of grief. Will I drown? Will God throw me a life preserver? Will I become a strong swimmer, and a lifeguard myself? I can't say, I haven't read the final chapter of this book yet.