When I started this blog, it was a secret one...I journaled about the fears & worries of my first trimester with Zooey before we made the pregnancy public. I had no idea it would be such an outlet or that I'd be journaling about my mom battling cancer & dying. I've always been a journaler, and although it's sometimes tough to write about things publicly, I'm glad I have, because I wouldn't have received so much of the encouragement that I've gotten had I continued to keep it a secret. Thank you for that.

Seven years ago I did counseling to deal with grief in another season of my life. I feel I have a lot of "head knowledge" about the grieving process and all the steps; however, nothing quite prepares you for actually feeling it. It's fine in theory to try to compartmentalize your grief and to cry for 15 minutes a few set times a day, but what about when you need to cry because it hits you when you're out to dinner with the whole family that there's an emptiness of someone not being there? Or when I give my baby a bath and remember the last time my mom was able to do that? Or when I want to ask my mom to pray for Zooey for something then remember she's not there? I'm not saying the information isn't helpful, it is, but just like I thought the diagnosis would somehow help prepare me for the loss, it didn't prepare me for anything. One cannot be prepared for the loss of someone so close. I certainly wasn't prepared that Zooey would notice as much as she has.

I so wish I could shield Zooey from all this! From the stress and sadness she must feel around her. Tonight I stopped by my mom's house (I can't stop calling it that...) to pick up some food. Zooey recognized where we were, pointed toward my mom's window and started whining for her grandma. I know she's more aware of this loss than any of us probably realize, and it just breaks my heart. I wish I could somehow wrap her in a giant bubble of joy and let her out when this season is over, but unfortunately, we can't do that. And you know what I am realizing? God loves us so much more than we love our children - so much that He sent His Son to die for us - and yet He doesn't shield us from disappointment and immense pain. He tells us He's here for us, wraps us in His arms, holds us close, comforts us with His Word and lets us cry; He feels our pain. I will, therefore, follow His example and hold my little girl up and let her cry and cry with her. I will keep my mom's memory alive and tell Zooey how much my mom loved her. I will show her tons of pictures and pass along lessons my mom taught me, especially the ones about Jesus. I will seek God's help as my Father to teach me how to be an excellent mother to Zooey through this, and because it's His desire, I know He will be faithful to answer my prayer.