I been thinkin'

I have a big huge jumble of stuff to say about Raina and I for once in my life at am a loss for words. What am I supposed to say? How do I say it if I ever do figure it out? I had an argument with our new chiropractor about her death. He kept insisting that I had a miscarriage. No, I did not. You wanna read an in-depth definition of a miscarriage? You can read about it here. As I was thinking... after 20 weeks it's technically considered a stillbirth. If it would have been a miss we wouldn't have had to go through a funeral home to bury her.

Here we are now... almost three months since she was born and all I have to say is that God is awesome and He's very detail oriented! LOL! Every single time I've had a bad day- if for no other reason than that the dumb dog ate my chocolates- He has sent something. Text messages telling me that I am loved and Raina will always be remembered, the One Year Book of Hope, a Poinsettia from Santa Anonymous NYM,  a little angel figurine, a hand made dolly that is the same length that Raina was, a little preemie size outfit that she would have fit in one leg of, LOL!, a poem titled I Am A Little Teddy Bear... every time I've been in a puddle bawling or feeling like I should be, something has arrived. That's probably one of the reasons I haven't had a bad day for so long. God plans for them and sends His angels to help. I can pretty much guarantee ya that none of the people that sent these things would classify themselves as angels either! That's okay. It ain't your job to classify yourself, it's Gods. ;)

I have a had hard time seeing the people that are due that same time I was supposed to be. I still don't like looking at them, but it is getting easier. I've wondered what it'll be like when those babies are here. But I guess when that time comes God'll be sending scads more angels to figure that situation out! I used to worry about the bad days... but when I stopped to think about it, I decided there's no need to worry. He's already proved that He'll help me. I'm just a little more thick-headed than some of His kids so He usually has to beat me over the head before I see what's in front of my big nose. I guess the main thing is tho' that I get the point that He's there for me.

I hate thinking about the fact that I can actually help other people out. It's not the fact that I don't want to help them, it's the fact that there's actually someone out there TO help. 'Cause if there's someone that needs help dealing with the crap, it means they lost a baby. I feel that it makes it seem more bearable when I can help someone else. I ain't saying I'm some great counsellor person but if I can lift the dark haze for even just a few minutes, they're that many minutes closer to feeling halfways normal again. My brand of grieving sometimes has people looking at me like I'm certifiable. But that's fine. When I cry, I also laugh. And if you're gonna cry with me you're gonna laugh. I'll make sure of it! It's one thing if I'm in a puddle on the floor bawling. But if everybody in the room joins me... we got us a sitiation here. (Who said that? :D) I ain't normal and I hope I never am if normal means not being weird like me anymore! I like me 'cause I'm funny and I make me laugh... and I like people that make me laugh! :D

This is just some of the stuff I been thinkin'. I can't find the words for the rest of it right now, but when I do I'll be sure to letcha in on it! ;)