Five Years. It honestly feels like a lifetime ago. While there are some things I can remember "like it was yesterday," carrying and birthing and meeting my sweet River feels like it took place in an alternate reality most days. Today, in the reality that I live in, I have two beautiful children that I get to raise and I can't imagine my life without them. I believe that I would not have the children I have today without having had River and for that alone, I am grateful.
I wish I could say that in the last five years I've always succeeded at honoring River's existence. Sure, I've spoken her name often and have helped spread awareness for child loss but the truth is, there have been times that I know I have done the exact opposite of honoring her; there have been times that I have taken River and her story for granted. I've been in some dark valleys, some of which I arrived at long after losing her. To be honest, that took me by surprise. I expected that the beginning waves of grief would be the worst; that they would leave me feeling the most raw and wounded. It wasn't until birthing my other two children that I felt those wounds open up in ways I never imagined they would. The anxiety of losing another child was enough to send me spiraling into severe depression and even PTSD. I know those are serious, heavy issues and I do not toss those words out lightly. I say it to be real with you and to tell you that the last five years have been a huge challenge for me. This grief has stretched me beyond what I thought my limits were. I've seen parts of myself that are downright ugly and I've wanted to give up on more than one occasion because I didn't feel like I'd ever be in a place to heal the broken parts of me. It scared me and it scared those closest to me and I don't want to ever find myself in that place again. I wasn't taking care of myself. I wasn't feeding my soul. I cannot stress enough how important those things are and believe me, I'm still learning. I'd love to be able to say that I've figured all that out in the last five years but I haven't. I know I'm moving forward though and that is what matters most.
Most of you know that I sing and for the longest time, I felt like I had no song. Nothing I sang or listened to made me happy or eased the burden of my grief or guilt. Distancing myself from music in times of trial is a pattern I've developed since I was young. I know that sounds totally counter-intuitive and weird because most people will use music and art to reach the deepest parts of them. Not me. I believe music is a powerful tool in which we can process emotion and that was exactly the problem: I wasn't wanting to truly and deeply process my feelings. I still have issues with it amidst my self-awareness. I've always tried to remain strong and level-headed when discussing my emotions; I've felt the need to not "break" or appear weak. It's a tremendous pressure to put on oneself and I wasn't even succeeding. My husband and children can tell you firsthand that I was indeed breaking and not gracefully... Finally, I just said "enough is enough" and decided to sit with my feelings. I listened to some songs here and there. Some moved me to tears. It was a strange feeling for me or rather, it made me feel vulnerable, something I typically don't like to feel. But instead of completely heading for the hills, I decided to find a therapist and commit to working through my issues. That was a year ago. Not long after I did that, I felt a strong pull to really get back into music. For the first time in a long time, I was not going to stand idly by and allow the valley I was in to swallow me up. It was an empowering feeling. Also scary. But we all know change isn't exactly comfortable...
I believe God intentionally gave me a passion for music and to feel genuinely convicted of not using that gift was a sobering thing. I've always been taught about using your gifts to serve God but I hadn't ever really realized how much I was simply hurting my own spiritual growth by remaining silent. I've struggled for a long time with the concept of obedience (for a variety of reasons) but I think I understand now why it is so important to remain obedient in the use of our gifts: Loving and serving others is the cornerstone of life itself. And when we are obedient in using our passions and gifts to love and serve others, lives really are changed. And you know what? It's usually the giver's life who's changed first.
At the end of last summer, my family and I began attending a new church, something we thought we'd never do simply because we really loved our church home even though it was quite a ways away (this ties into River, I promise). The Lord began working on my heart and I finally just said "yes" to taking a leap of faith and planted roots in Oregon City by attending church somewhere local. It was so much easier than I anticipated! Seriously. Major relief. Vivi started thriving right away and eventually word got around that I was a musician...
The shortened version of this story is that I simply just kept saying "yes" to God and have found myself thriving now as well, both musically and spiritually. It's been an incredible experience. When we lost River, I swore to myself that I would never stop making music and would never stop being inspired by the things she has taught me. I mad those goal when I was on a mountain, not realizing how lofty those goals would feel once I was in a valley. It's been a painful road, excruciating at times, but I have learned more in these five years than I feel like I ever have in my life.
I miss River. Deeply. I know that if I would have been able to keep her that she would be imparting her old-soul wisdom on me as the little teacher I always felt she would be. I'm done playing the "what-if" game though. But I do still hurt. My heart and literal body hurts when this time of year approaches. It's something I feel will forever be ingrained into my being. At the end of the day though, I write these words knowing that my daughter is safe; That she is loved and that she is whole.
I still pray sometimes that God would bring me dreams of her, showing me what she would be like. I know He knows all of that and it just makes me all the more eager for the day our family is reunited. Until that day though, I will press on. I can't say that I will be entirely devoid of fear of what life will continue to look like without my precious girl but I can say that even if I do falter, that I will get back up and try again. I will fight for hope and I will not let darkness consume me.
Thank you all for standing alongside me on this journey. I could never adequately articulate my appreciation for you and the love you have shown me... <3
