Sometimes I think something is funny, or I actually catch myself enjoying something in life. And then I start feeling guilty – I shouldn’t be happy right now. I shouldn’t be enjoying life. I’m sad. This sucks right now. There isn’t anything funny or enjoyable about it. And yet a laugh sneaks out. What am I? Am I happy? Am I sad? Am I up? Am I down? Am I coming? Am I going? Truly, I have no idea. It changes so frequently.

I know Shiloh’s in heaven. In fact, she is in the very presence of the Lord. Even the book of Job makes clear that it would be far better to go straight to heaven than suffer through life here. (And there is real suffering, isn’t there?) I’m happy for her – very happy. But I’m very sad for me, for Niki, and for our whole family. Which just makes me feel selfish. Ugh, these lies I have to fight!

I know I’m strong. I know I’m a fighter. But somewhere in my there’s a big ol’ GIVER-UPPER who’s just eager to make a grand appearance right now.

Yesterday I saw more pregnant women than I could count. I even had to sit through a nearly 2 hour meeting with a pregnant woman who is not that further along than I was. And she was so cute. I wish I was a so-cute pregnant woman right now. I felt so crushed in there. And then angry, too. Like, “Great. The last thing I need is super-cute pregnant woman sitting across from me for the rest of the afternoon. Seriously? Couldn’t there be ANYBODY ELSE IN THE WHOLE WORLD who could have been here right now???” I don’t want to be angry.

By the time I got home, I just wanted to cry and sleep and cry some more.

Niki’s supposed to arrive tomorrow morning. But 12-24″ of snow are supposed to arrive today. And it isn’t looking so good that the airports will be open. AGAIN, I feel like the last thing I need right now is for my husband to be gone EVEN LONGER. Really??? God, couldn’t you shift the snow storm 24 hours earlier or later? What could be the purpose in having me sleep alone or cry alone another night? Oh, there’s that anger again. But I don’t want to be an angry person. So Lord, thy will be done. again.

I was crying at home and Siah came and laid down on my stomach. He was crying, too. Through his big, compelling tears, he said, “Mama? You’re sad because we lost our baby!” I said, through my tears, “Yes, Siah, that’s right.” Then he said, “Daddy’s sad, too. And Granma Micki, too.” And then, with the most evoking burst of tears possible, he said, “And I’M SAD, TOO!!! Being sad is not fun! Being sad is not fun! Being sad is not fun!” I giggled – he was just too cute.

But right now — in this moment — that’s exactly what I’m feeling, Siah.

Being sad is not fun.