I Cried, for the First Time

No, not just now. Nor recently. More like over a year ago.

In the previous post I mentioned that I would be writing post ideas that have been swimming in my head for a while. No, I have not been dwelling on the crying continuously for a year. Actually, it is something I have only recently remembered and realized.

As long term readers will recall, the first and last time, I cried was a day or so after the first abortion. The following excerpt is from "Damn! That Hurt!";

...The only thing I clearly remember after that was going to a Wal-Mart with my mother.  We were in line waiting to purchase our items.  Behind us was a couple about my age.  They had a baby in a stroller with them.  The baby was crying.  Basic fussing, like babies do, not causing too much of a scene.  I was about ready to burst into tears.  I asked my mother for the car keys to wait in the car.I bolted out of that store so fast.  The moment I got in the car I bawled like never before.  Tears streaming down my face and hyperventilating in my breathing.  My mother got in the car.  Asked me what was wrong.  Really?  She couldn't put the two together?  I said something to the effect of "I killed my baby" or "I will never see my baby" or both of those things.  Her response?  Oh, that's all. I thought maybe the baby was annoying you and something about I did the right thing, it was no big deal, I would get over it, etc.  Then and there I decided that the only thing to do was to be numb about the situation.

If you are new to reading this blog I would recommend that you read "The First Abortion," to be able to start at the beginning of my story.

Back to the subject at hand. I had not cried since then. I suppose it would be rather difficult to cry over something I did not remember. But even after the memories surfaced I still had that inner child crying within me. Eh, she was probably there the entire time, since the first abortion. I just refused to acknowledge her. I didn't even know why she was there. Though deep in my soul, I knew she was there.
There were times I felt like crying. But could never really bring myself to cry. Sure, there were times when I would get sniffly, maybe even a tear or two fall down my cheeks.
During the different grief sessions at the Rachel's Vineyard Retreat the other attendees did cry, when telling their stories or listening to others' stories. But I was just stoic when speaking and listening. No one judged me for not crying, nor did I judge others for crying. There may have been a moment of self judging myself for not crying. "What's wrong with you, do you have no feeling?"
It was when I was going through a particular rough patch at the beginning of last year, 2017, when I did finally cry. I had been switching between bouts of anger (angry at who or what I do not know) and extreme sadness. One night, late at night, in late January or early February I went on a video binge on YouTube. Searching for all the saddest and most painful songs I could find.

It was then I finally let the tears fall in a sweet sweet release! Everything, the pent up feelings for the past twenty-two years finally came bursting out. Every ounce of moisture being released from my eyes. Face completely wet. Puffy eyes. All of it. Was this the first time crying ever within those years that I had cried? That heavy? I am not sure. I probably had cried, a time or two, over something unrelated. But I really don't recall crying like that.

I never really felt the need to talk of it. I never thought there was any significance in it. But I truly believe this was a major pivotal point in my healing. Probably not a first step, but definitely a huge step, even leap, in my journey to getting up and dusting off.

First of the Year Quarterly Update

Looks like it's been about six months since my last posting. Oh my, where has the time gone? Where do I even start?
Perhaps I should get back to where I left off and "move forward" (that's kind of my catch phrase from now on) from there.

So the last post was about the Her Choice to Heal book by Sydna Masse. I stated that I would like to start a weekly book report about different post abortive books on healing. I still plan on doing that. Currently I am participating in an online book group for Lent. So, I will get back to sharing info on the books soon after Easter.

Part of what distracted me from writing was my mother came to visit, from the current state in which she lives. Actually, things went pretty well. We may have had a small tiff here or there. But generally we got along. And I would like to share that specific aspect of the healing journey in upcoming posts.

Been reading past posts, wow somebody needs a proof reader! But I digress. Seems since the breakdown I always seem to become physically ill in one form or another off and on from January to March. Yep. Been like that this year, of 2018. It will probably be like that, if not forever, for the next few years. And you know what? That's OK.

At the beginning of this year I decided to make an "anti-resolution." Let me explain. At the start of every calendar year so many of us make resolutions for this thing or the other. Usually it's weight loss, being more healthy, being a better spouse, employee, student, giving up one habit of another, giving more to charity, volunteering, or just a better person in general.
Every year at the start of January, since the memories surfaced, I would always make my little vows that "this year will be better." I would proclaim that I would not let the anxiety bother me. I would proclaim to not let the memories get to to me. How that would happen I don't know.
This year I decided not to even try. Despite being sick off and on, this has probably been my best first quarter of the year since the breakdowns. Perhaps even since the abortions.
Do I still fall? Yes. Do I get back up? Yes. A while back I chose to get up and dust off, over forget and move on. By the way, I hate that phrase about forgetting and moving on with every passion in my being. My falling seems to be less extreme and injurious, the bumps and bruises are less painful. This of course from an emotional standpoint. When I get up from the falls I stand taller. I stand prouder. The dust that needs to be shaken off is less thick.
Why is this? It could be just the old standby of "time heals old wounds." Which I will give credence to that. But I think there is an aspect of when the memories do surface I just let it ride. I don't attempt to will them away. The memories do seem less frequent. Frankly, there really is not many new memories to come to the surface. Though there are still some blank spots, I think I have remembered all that I can.

Perhaps I am remembering all that God will allow. Perhaps He will give me more memories as He sees fit that I can handle. Perhaps not. Truly I could not do this without my faith in Him. My morning prayers don't include specifities about the memories, unless I may have had a rather jarring dream that recalled back to the memories. But I do pray that He will watch over, guide me, and keep the anxiety at bay. Should I have anxiety in the day, I will stop what I am doing and get on my knees to pray.

One area in which I will be making a conscious effort is ideas for future posts, besides those mentioned above. I will be writing thoughts that have been stuck in my head since last year, but still relevant to share. I want to keep up the Random Thoughts page, when quick quips pop in my head. I also want to fill in the gaps about the first ten or so years following the abortions. I will be adding current pro-life articles that are in the news. Perhaps just sharing, maybe adding my own thoughts. I will be adding a few Christian posts, that focus on grief and abortion.

Monday Book Reads - Her Choice to Heal

I have mentioned before that soon after the memories came to light I started reading books regarding post abortion healing. I would like to share some of those books in which have helped me in my healing journey. I am thinking of doing a weekly book spotlight. I have chosen Monday. Seems a good day as any. The best way to give a description of the books is to do a copy/paste of the Amazon.com description. It would be the best way to give credit to what the author is trying to convey through their writings. I may reread the book and give quick short review, within the week. It may be interesting to reread with fresh eyes.
Perhaps, you dear reader, are post-abortive and/or know someone who is. The abortion may have been recent. Perhaps happened a few years ago. Maybe even a few decades. And the woman is just now remembering, as is what happened with me. You are trying to figure out what's going on, within yourself. Or you want to help your friend/family member. But you don't know how. While most of these books are written with the post abortive woman as the reader in mind, they can also help others to understand the thoughts and actions of the post abortive woman. They can be a suggestion for the post abortive woman in your life. But do not, I repeat DO NOT suggest any book to her UNLESS and only unless she has shown interest in getting healing information.
Most books on the subject are Christian based. A few are non religious in nature. The Christian based books are not so overt as to be of uninterest to non Christians.
Whether you are the post abortive woman or she is someone you know, the healing may come right away, or it may take a while, even a few years. Please do not begin reading with a healing timeline. Just give to God in prayer and let Him do his work in you.

That being said, the inauguration book for this new series is Her Choice to Heal by Sydna Masse. The title itself says it all. The choice to heal needs to be the woman's herself. She does not need anybody to be "helpful," as it can seem a bit pushy, putting her on the spot.

Description from Amazon.com;

What do 33% of American women have in common?  They've experienced abortion.

You might be one of these women. Or maybe it's your friend, sister, coworker, or the woman sitting next to you at church. Regardless, post-abortive women are in pain, and at some point, most will experience post-abortion syndrome (PAS), a form of post traumatic stress disorder. But they may never talk about it. Many are silent because they are filled with shame, grief and guilt, afraid of judgment and condemnation.  Few realize that peace is attainable through Christ's mourning process and the knowledge that because of His grace, they will reunite with their lost loved ones in Heaven.
Her Choice to Heal is designed to help women find a way to God's healing after this devastating choice.  Written by a post-abortive woman, it includes testimonies of strength, healing and hope.  Sydna compassionately leads you on the difficult journey through denial, anger, and grief, to forgiveness, redemption, and letting go.  Her Choice to Heal offers a roadmap to healing - practical suggestions, resources for help, space to journal, with the encouragement and hope found in Christ alone. 

Can be purchased at this link.

Ready to Forgive my Grandmother

"Forgive and forget" or "Forgive, but you don't have to forget." Oh that's easy for *you* (You as in society in general) to say. Maybe it's not. Have *you* taken your own advice? Has someone told you those words, after someone else hurt you and/or you learned new information about a situation that changed everything as you thought you knew it? Did *you* make a snap decision to forgive immediately? Or are *you* using your hearer as a social guinea pig, of sorts? Perhaps *you* want to see whether or not the hearer will forgive the other person. Maybe *you* are "timing" them. To see how long it will take for them to forgive. Then you can validate your own slothfulness.

Now let's get to the subject. Early last year I learned, from my mother, that the abortion was my grandma's idea. You can read about it here and here. Perhaps I said some things that were a bit cruel and crossed a line. At the time I was in a fog. It all seemed like a dream. A dream where you know the characters and think you know the story while simultaneously not knowing the story.

The wounds have now been healed. I am in different place. My state of mind is changed.

Since the flashbacks started and I was searching for information, through online articles and books,to help understand what was going on forgiveness was one the focuses. At the time of reading, I didn't know the extent of my grandma's involvement. So it never even crossed my mind to forgive her.

A few things happened, before and after, since learning the information about my grandma. Soon after the breakdown I had confessed and received absolution from a (denomination redacted) pastor, in regards to the sin of the abortions; and a few related things. That should go into a post all of its own. Then at some point I was able to forgive myself for the abortions.
My grandmother is the oldest daughter of six children. Two of her siblings passed away many years ago. Recently she lost her oldest brother and a sister. Both within a couple months. Her and one sister are the only two remaining "children" of her parents. She is over ninety years old. Our family is dying out. There are many carrying out future generations on her brothers' side. There aren't many of us able to carry out future generations on the sisters' side.

With this I am realizing my grandma probably won't be with the family much longer. Maybe a few more years left for her. A decade, tops. Having been forgiven from God, of this and many other sins, I should also extend forgiveness towards her. But how do I do this? I have already told my mother that I am at this stage in my healing. Should I just forgive in my heart? Let her know? How I would I go about that when she hasn't asked forgiveness? Obviously I can't tell her over the phone. When seeing next do I bring it up casually "Grandma, I forgive you in your role in the abortion. Pass the peas."

The books and articles never said it would be easy. The authors, who have been in the same situation and/or talked with those who have, admit to that. It takes prayer and contemplation. It must be worked out with time. For some it takes longer than others.

I am Responsible

I am sure to some readers the writing of my abortion experience may seem as though I am bragging about it. Or maybe that I am not taking responsibility for my part. Maybe I am placing blame on others.

It is a delicate balancing act for me. I do take responsibility for my part. But that is just it, my part. I was the one who was pregnant. I was the last in line to choose to have my children sucked out of me. I should have stood up for the sake of my daughters. The blame for the second abortion lies more on part than the first. That is a hard reality to take, but I take it. In the middle of the night I find myself saying aloud "I killed my children." Completely audible.

Am I the only one to blame? No. When the first pregnancy was confirmed I may not have been elated, but abortion sure as hell didn't come across my mind! There were others who led, maybe even manipulated me into relenting to the abortion. "Matt" for his non committal attitude. My mother for the turn around in support. My grandmother for the deception.

The common consensus is that people need to take the blame for their own actions. Yes, that is true. While the woman is the ultimate decider in whether to have the abortion; those who influence, coerce, or even at times force her, should accept their culpability in the death of the woman's child.
A few days ago I did a Google search about the statistics regarding the percentage of women who are coerced into abortion. Many websites and pro-life books state around 64%. Personally, I would believe the statistics to be at a much higher rate. From a website, The UnChoice, is this;

 Up to 64 percent of abortions involve feelings of being pressured to have an abortion, and other factors, such as rushed, deceptive, negligent or conflicted or profit-driven counseling, can also have a significant and often synergistic coercive effect.⁴ Furthermore, based on even the most minimal standards of care and human rights, such assembly-line care is exploitative at best and a recognized human rights abuse, even under liberal abortion laws.

Full article of How Common is Coercion, here.

Does He Even Remember Me?

That's a question I asked myself last night while trying to sleep.

I sometimes have dreams about getting back together with "Matt." Many times it comes to fruition. But then he disappears. Or one of us we will try to contact each other, yet missing a connection. We are never parents in any of the dreams. I never really gave much thought to any of these dreams, other than wonder where that came from after waking up.

Until last night. I was thinking about him. Thought about the good times and the bad times. And yes, there were good times. But does he remember any of them? Does he remember the woman he dated for a year and a half? Does he remember the woman whom he impregnated? Does he ever wonder if the child really was lost to miscarriage? Did he ever wonder if she was pregnant before breaking up with him? If he thought yes, did he wonder what happened to that child?

Does he even remember her name? Does he remember what she looks like? Does he remember that he was her first...everything?
I remember the first time he kissed me. I giggled. It was nothing against him. I wasn't laughing at him. I was almost twenty years old, and had never been kissed! Heck, I had never even dated anyone! It was a nervous reaction. I remember when he first told me he loved me. I just couldn't bring myself to say it back. He was rather offended by that. I wasn't sure if I did love him. I didn't know what love is. Perhaps I still don't. I did end up reciprocating the sentiment. But did I mean it? Did he mean it? I don't know. Perhaps, on both accounts.
I remember the first time he tried to have sex with me. I remember being swept away and taken in. Almost relenting. Then pulling back. I remember the first time of surrendering to him. The details of which would not be appropriate to speak of.

During the breakdown of 2014 I did check on Facebook to see if he had a profile set up. Not really that I wanted to reconnect, just checking to see if he was on there. What would I even say to him? Why would I tell him that I was contacting him after all this time? At that time he was in a relationship. He may or may not still be.

I have since found out that he now has a son. Doing the math, that son is less than a year younger than what Hanelore would be. Because I don't know the exact mathematics of that boy's birth month or even when Hanelore's due date would have been; I am not sure if "Matt" impregnated another woman towards the end of our relationship or soon after my breaking up with him.
There is a bit of hurt in that. Whether he was cheating on me or started a relationship soon after the break up. I can't help but wonder what was so special about the mother of his son that she was "allowed to" give birth to his child, but I wasn't. Did she have support from "Matt"? Did she have support from her family? Or was she stronger than me and stood up to them all? Is she the woman "Matt" is in a relationship with, or was recently? Does "Matt" look at his son and think that the son may or may not have a sister? Does he regret his non committal attitude toward my pregnancy with Anastasia? 

Sewing the Seams of Healing

Way back in April of this year I wrote about my teddy bear with the seam rip in the neck. He's been fixed! Probably about a couple weeks ago. I hand stitched the seams together. It was rather bittersweet while I was sewing. There was a feeling of happiness that he would be all fixed up and better. Yet, I couldn't help but feel a bit of sadness. I couldn't pinpoint the cause or why.

Teddy bear all fixed and better!

Perhaps my bittersweet feelings are due to my own broken seams. My broken and busted seams. Yes, after 20 years I have finally pinpointed the hurt and despair caused by the abortions. And really, knowing the cause is not only the first step in healing, but it is also three quarters or more of the healing. Once the cause of deep seated old hurt is located, the healing can be begin.

Not saying it is sunshine, lollipops, rainbows, roses, and pink unicorns flying out my butt. In fact more like a Generation X kid scraping their knee and grandpa putting Mercurochrome on it. All the while telling you "it won't hurt. I used this as a kid, fought in World War II and I'm still alive. You'll survive." Yeah, no. It stings. It stings like hell.
Back to the healing. That first moment of realizing what has been "wrong with you" for all those years is a definite sting. You could be in the middle of the most mundane household chore or running errands and bam! out of nowhere the memory hits. Smacks you up like you have been smacked in the face by an anvil. Or at least that's how it happened for me.

As you can see from the photo above of the teddy bear (still no name for him). He still has a few places that need some more repairs. Those are his scars. Those scars give him character. They show the many years of love. I too have scars. Perhaps my scars give me character too. But those scars sure as hell ain't from love. Lust, maybe, but most definitely not love.

I have more thoughts on my healing process, but I can't really bring them to focus and arrange in a cohesive manner. Plus it might run off to be a bit off topic from this post. I will add a part two or three or four or more to this. Let the healing begin!

I was Once Pro-Choice...

The following will be rather disjointed and slightly out of order...

Pro-Choice. What does that even mean? I suppose it could mean anything to any people. So many labels. Pro-Choice. Pro-Life. Pro-Abortion. Anti-Life. Anti-Abortion. Some of these labels are self identified, by individuals and organizations. Some of these labels are thrown onto "the enemy," by individuals, organizations, media and pundits. So much of "don't call me this, call me that," "that label sounds cruel and heartless," "this label sounds more kinder."

That being said; let's focus mainly on the Pro-Choice label. Seems to have gone through many definitions since my abortion in 1995. Mainly, I have thought of it as someone who doesn't "personally support abortion, but supports other women's 'right' to abort." Of course there are others, from both "sides," who could explain the definition better.

I had always considered myself Pro-Life; since high school, at the time of my pregnancy with Anastasia, and even after the abortion. Ironic, huh? Yeah, I was Pro-Life, yet I couldn't even keep my own child, my flesh and blood, alive.

I recall sometime after the second abortion watching some sort of docudrama about Margaret Sanger, founder of Planned Parenthood, on Lifetime Television. You know, the network for women, about women, by women; or something like that. Actress Dana Delaney played the so-called "heroine." Off topic, but they did quite a good casting. They do resemble each other quite well.
Back to the subject at hand. While watching the movie the "big bad lawmakers," media, society, and law enforcement was being meany-weany to her. She was talking to doctors and "medical experts." Doing "research." Making housecalls to women who were doing the supposed coat hanger abortions on themselves at home. Oh I was sitting in front of the TV just rooting her on.

That's not even the worst. I was going through a cruel period in my life. I recall watching Maury or Sally Jesse, this was the big age of talk shows in the mid 90's. The show was girlfriends and ex-girlfriends revealing big major secrets. Believe it or not, I had the cruel fantasy of someday I would go on the show and reveal both abortions to "Matt." LORD forgive me!

Then, at some point I went through a black out period in regards to the abortions. Totally forgetting about them. Didn't think about them at all. Yet still, I considered myself Pro-Life.

Fast forward a decade or so. I started getting involved politically. I identified as a Republican. Got involved with political meetings. Did some volunteering for a few campaigns. Went to conventions and such.
Did quite a bit of conservative blogging. No, I will not reveal the old blog. It has been taken down, no more to be written there. One of the Republican and conservative issues is the Pro-Life cause, more or less. Again, remember, I was thinking myself Pro-Life. Yet in a few of my posts I was lamenting "why is everyone so obsessed with abortion."
It is rather hard to explain, but I had forgotten my abortions yet simultaneously remembering I had had abortions. My attitude toward those talking about Pro-Life was "stop obsessing," "yeah, abortion is bad," "but it's going to happen anyways," "it's been going on since just about the beginning of time," "focus on the economy."
I still believe there is a correlation between economy and abortion. But both need to be focused on. Believe it or not, I still considered myself Pro-Life. I don't even know if I supported making abortion illegal at the time.

In conclusion, many of those on the Pro-Life end of things say that if one does not believe in making abortion illegal and is whole heartedly against abortion for all then really you are Pro-Choice or Pro-Abortion. Basically, I have come to believe that yes I was once Pro-Choice.
I am now wholly and fully Pro-Life. I would like to talk more about how I came about that view. But I need to fill in a few gaps. It would have to include the beginning of my breakdown. That was not a one time thing. It was a slow process leading up. I am not sure I am ready for that. Perhaps I am. But it would take some sit down time to think and pray for the right words.

My Name is Kathy, I Live in Michigan

In May I was considering coming out of the closet, the abortion closet that is.  I was contemplating letting friends and family know I have had two abortions.  With much fear, I came out.  Is it freeing?  Perhaps.  But maybe not.  What made me finally decide to do it?  Issues with my mother.

How did I do it?  Due to issues with my mother I was texting with an out of state friend.  I was feeling stressed.  I decided right then and there the truth needed to be told.  I wanted to shout it out on Facebook.  I needed to shout it out somewhere.  I felt like I was going to burst!  Problem was, my internet access was down at the time.  After much prayerful thought I gave my friend the go ahead to post to my wall.  It was scary.  I did not know if I was doing the right thing or not.  All I could do was trust in God.  Many of my friends are pro-life.  I even have a few family members on Facebook.  I was afraid they may think of me as a bad person - not for having the abortion - but for letting out the secret.  Even though they did not know at the time.  I was afraid they would tell my mother.  And my mother would get upset at me, for revealing the secret sin.  I did receive support in comments.  The friend who posted was kind enough to share said comments. 

Why am I not so sure if it is freeing?  As I said above, there is that fear of what people would think.  I was afraid of loosing friends on Facebook.  But at the same time if they are going to stop being friends because of a past abortion sin then they were probably never friends.  In some ways I do want to lose friends.  I feel I don't deserve friends.  I feel I deserve to be left alone. 

Why did I do it?  It needs to be done.  The pro-abortion side is going into overdrive with their agenda.  Using TV and popular culture to make abortion look cool and normal.  Attacking pro-life movements outright.  Also, I felt stifled in my talking about pro-life issues.  I would start to talk about something and then feel like I would need to hold back.  I was afraid of others wondering how I would know anything about what it is really like for a post abortive woman.  I was afraid of them knowing I was post abortive.  When reading comments to posts from pro-life pages on social media I would see nasty judgmental comments.  I would want to respond.  I would overthink on how to reply and try to sound as impersonal as possible.  One of the many specifics I have wanted to talk about is how I think the "doctor" from the second abortion is somewhat a Kermit Gosnell of Michigan.  I want to be able to share the pro-life books I have read, here on this blog and on Facebook, without anyone getting suspicious.  If everyone knows who I am, there is no reason to fear.  And not having fear is how I can tackle the pro-abortion side.

Still Healing and Recovering

Warning: The following is a bit disjointed.  Firing out thoughts as they come.  No rhythm or concise order of anything.  

Been debating writing about this.  As was stated I attended a Rachel's Vineyard Retreat about 3 weekends ago.  Oddly it seems longer ago than that.  Yet, it seems more recent.  I have been doing that for the past year or so, since "*coming to terms" with the abortions.

*Really, can one truly come to terms with an abortion?  I don't know.  I can't answer that.  No matter how much support one has from a confident(s), retreats, online groups, prayer, Bible reading, etc "automatic healing" will not take place.  All I can do is trust in Christ.  Yes, it's an uphill battle.  One that I must climb everyday and trust in God.  Look, I don't have all the answers.  I just know I am going to fall.  Heck sometimes even go snowball rolling down that hill.  I know when I do fall to get on my knees and pray.  Even before starting up the hill to get on my knees and prayer.  Regardless of my mood.  Do I always heed my own advice?  No!  But I must keep persevering.

Looks like I kind of went off track.  Let's get back to the subject.  So the reason, or one reason, I debated writing about this is that I was afraid of possibly coming off as saying that the retreat didn't help me.  It did.  Believe me. I don't want the following to be a discouragement to those who may be considering attending a retreat. Whether you are in the look-up stage or making plans to attend a specific retreat in your area or somewhere else; I want to tell you that despite any of your fears it really truly is a healing experience.  Or part of the healing experience.

Currently, I am writing from my "sick bed."  Not really like I have the flu or something.  Just tired.  Don't want to do anything right now.  Playing Christian/Gospel/Hymn music.  Reading from the Bible.  Praying the rosary.  May read a few verses from the Book of Psalms.  Checking out the Twitter feed.  Of course writing too.  Playing online games, just to release some stress. 
Although I am currently not at the point I was when I "discovered" that I had the abortions.  That time was horrible.  All I did was lay around, desiring to cry yet the tears would not flow, lay in a fetal position, wishing the world would go away.  I have made some progress in that time.

I have been somewhat lethargic since coming home from the retreat.  The leaders did state to take it easy when getting home and not be wonder-woman.  I did try to heed that advice.  But at the same time I felt like I had so much in my life and home that were neglected during my reflection time.  I thought I could come home and do all kinds of spring cleaning and DIY projects.  But I was also being careful not to overdo things.  I would wake up, drink my coffee, sit and stare, think about the things I needed to do.  I thought "the next cup of coffee will give me the energy to do things."  Nope.  After finishing a day of doing nothing,except for maybe the basics I would go to bed  feeling defeated and lazy. 
Finally, I have just collapsed.  I am laying on the couch propped up by a throw pillow and a bed pillow.  Doing nothing.  And that is fine!I don't know how long I will be on my sick bed.  And that is fine.  I am not going to schedule the time I will be on the sick bed.  And that is fine.  I am not going to schedule things I need to do.  And that is fine. 

There is a photo on the sidebar along with the same photo at the top of the blog that is of the prayer and meditation shrine in memorial of my girls, Anastasia and Hanelore.  I have it set up in my kitchen.  It is a nice spot to be able to remind me to look to God in all my sorrows and joys.  Have my devotions and prayer time there.  Feel as though I have my daughters near me during meal and prep times.  I am not at the point where I set a place and meals for them.  Yet, I think it is now time to take down the shrine and put the memory items in a safe and secure spot, to be able to look at when I need to. 
Although my hoarding issues seem to get in the way of that.  Don't know why but in some ways it feels as though I am getting rid of my daughters again.  Possibly as though I am "hiding them."  These are issues I need to work on.

Point is; there is no one true miracle that is going to all of a sudden make my emotions be all Maria from The Sound of Music dancing in a field of flowers.  And that too is fine!