Welcome. We are so glad you are here.
We are a family of six, looking to share our story with anyone who will listen. My name is Alexa, and my husband Eric and I have been married for 13 years. We live in Celina, TX with three of our children- Hudson (10), Henry (8) and Hattie (5). We also have a beautiful daughter, Harper (6), in heaven waiting for us. We miss her terribly, but know that this world is not our home. We have 'a home yet to come' and will someday be together again. Until then, we put all of our hope and trust in Jesus to get us through this crazy life.
“For this world is not our permanent home; we are looking forward to a home yet to come.”
-Hebrews 13:14
I am a man. I don’t cry unless my favorite team loses the championship… This is the common misconception about men. Men should just rub some dirt on it and grin and bear the pain.
Well, I have found that since we lost Harper, I am not the stereotypical male. Things just get to me. It’s a little bit embarrassing to talk about, but should it be? There are a number of things that trigger my tears and that list is a much longer list than it was before we lost Harper…
One of the things my nurse said to Eric and I shortly after Harper was born was, “People are going to say a lot of really dumb things.” In the moment I couldn’t wrap my mind around what she meant. I was overcome with grief and my mind was trying to process the fact that I had just given birth to a lifeless baby girl. But as time went by, her words echoed back in my mind and I realized what she was trying to warn us of.
It didn’t take long for us to experience all kinds of, well, let’s just say “interesting” comments. Some were hurtful. Some were confusing. Some were just stupid. And some were cliches that are often used when people just don’t know what to say.
I wanted to talk today about one that I’ve probably heard more than all the others. Chances are, if I’ve told you my story, you have probably mumbled this phrase to me.
Two years. It has been two years since we first saw your face. That beautiful face. Two years ago our lives were turned upside down and we entered our lowest valley and our wish to raise you here on Earth did not come true.
Acceptance is defined, by Merriam Webster, as “The quality or state of being accepted.” OK… Accept is defined (in the most fitting definition) as “to endure without protest or reaction”. I don’t know about the “without reaction” part, but I like the “endure” part. Acceptance is different for everyone. For me, acceptance was when I no longer felt guilty doing something fun or something special.
What does grief look like four years later? I’m not sure if people outside of the “loss club” think about this question or not, but I felt it was the perfect topic for today. I bet some people believe that grief gets lighter as time goes on. After all, time heals all wounds right?