January

Each month in 2013, I’ll be posting a thought provoking question for our Stepping Stones forum.

How do you handle temptation?

I see the snow covering the world around me.  I see the trees, bare and vulnerable, and I am tempted to forget, that there is value in the season of dormancy, of barrenness.  I am tempted to forget that the snow is actually a blanket, layed gently over Mother Earth’s womb, as seeds of life, hidden from our view and from my frail understanding, are shifting and stirring, already preparing to be the beautiful blossoms of the summer.

In my temptation, I allow myself to see the days as dark, cold, and isolating.  In my temptation, I forget to marvel at the intricacies, the details, the beauty of the tree without her shroud of leaves.

This reflects into my behaviors.  When my leaves feel taken from me, I forget to marvel at the strength of my branches.  When coldness seems to meet me wherever I go, I forget that it is but a blanket and that I have a valuable life, yet to be grown and discovered.

Have you found that there is temptation in your grief journey?  Would you like to share what it is?  Or just share how you’ve handled it?

Come, enter into the stillbirthday Stepping Stones forum, where you can share with us. 

If you have already read the Stepping Stones intro, you can bypass and enter directly into the stillbirthday mothers forum here or enter directly into the stillbirthday fathers forum here.

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BIRTH & BEREAVEMENT QUOTES
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She was a genius of sadness, immersing herself in it, separating its numerous strands, appreciating its subtle nuances. She was a prism through which sadness could be divided into its infinite spectrum.

— Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything Is Illuminated

No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.

— C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

I am strong.

— January, founder of Birth Without Fear

When someone you love dies, and you’re not expecting it, you don’t lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time—the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers. Gradually, you accumulate the parts of her that are gone. Just when the day comes—when there’s a particular missing part that overwhelms you with the feeling that she’s gone, forever—there comes another day, and another specifically missing part.

— John Irving, A Prayer for Owen Meany

They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite.

— Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince
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