A Heart Heavy with Emotions

WARNING: This post is a bit depressing (not my normal self).  I just needed to get this out of my head.  

Tears of joy and fear seem to come at the same time these days. Maybe I have just become an emotional person who breaks into the ugly cry every now and then or maybe every new mom goes through this craziness.

Ugh... where to start?  After reading this article about raising a child with a terminal illness, I could not help but selfishly thank God for Ellington's health.  I immediately felt guilty for my joy and cried for the 'dragon moms' out there while holding my baby girl a little tighter.

On occasion, I find myself staring at Ellington as she sleeps and a wave of emotions washes over me. Ellington is named after my grandmother's grandmother, so my grandmother is often on my mind when I watch little 'e'. I start to think of how amazing it is that my little girl will get to know her great grandmother, it's such a blessing. And to hear my grandmother talk about Elli... I can't describe in words how happy it makes me. My whole body smiles when I look at Elli and tears of joy fill my eyes, then the ugly cry starts... 

Reminded by this article, sadness creeps in and my heart aches for my grandparents. They lost a son, my mom's older brother, when he was barely a toddler and somehow they pushed forward to live life after his death. I have only spent 8 short months with Ellington and I already cannot imagine my life without her. I can't imagine doing everything that you know how to do to comfort and save your child, only to have that precious being taken from you.

When my grandfather was still with us, he would say the prayer at every Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner. He would say, "Thank God for those who are with us and those who are not"... a sweet simple prayer. I remember always knowing that Michael Quinn passed away during the winter holidays and that my grandmother was always a little sad during that time, but I didn't really get it until now. As children, somehow we knew not to ask why my grandmother often left the table after the prayer. We simply let her be and continued on eating, not realizing the sadness that still lingered in her heart.

There is no cute little way to end this post.  I have no conclusions or solutions, just emotions and a little reminder...

"Parenting, I’ve come to understand, is about loving my child today."