Every morning I wake up and I either am happy to see the sun rising in the east or it simply pains me greatly that I woke up, yet, again. The later is how I woke up today.

Most of the day was spent searching for something. Anything.

What came out of all of my searching were some questions and one simple answer.

1. Why do some people hold onto meanial things like beer caps or homework from childhood?
2. Do other women who suffered the tragedy of a miscarriage grieve years later for the baby/child that never came to be?
3. The one answer I came to believe is true to me this moment was that I was depressed because my body and mind still remembered that five years ago I miscarried a baby. It was the most horrible thing that happened to me.

I felt like avoiding everyone and anyone to wallow in my own self-pity, but then I made a decision to focus on what was happening around me. I thought about Christmas, and how it is about three weeks away. I looked at my son and wanted to draw nearer to him. I thought about how I still feel considerable grief over that loss, and how even though I think I am over it I still feel something inside of me years later. That realization was followed by my thinking of someone close to me who had abortions. I felt really sad for her. I felt like “I knew” why she held onto years of crap for no reason other than to hold onto something she could. And, then I thought about how old that child could have been. What a loss…a loss of life in so many ways. Yes, these feelings hurt me, but what I could do was pray for the unborn children and those people I felt on my heart.

I feel so thankful that I have a beautiful child in my life. He has given to me so much in the few years I have been blessed with. I see life differently. I see hope for the future not because of him, but because I have a purpose in my life with a message of hope for those who are hurting.

Which leads me to speaking with my son’s father. I had called him once before I actually got through to him and didn’t leave a message. The second time I called I got him on the phone. I spoke about the loss of our pregnancy in November 2004. I cried. I felt heart-felt sorrow for the way I’ve acted recently with him. I felt like that moment when we talked nothing else mattered. He heard me. I heard him. He still tried to comfort me from the pain I expressed over the loss of that pregnancy in 2004. I at times fail to give my son’s father a break in life over mistakes or things that hurt me.

I wish I could express or make up for all the times I screwed up. I wish I could take back so many things that drove a wedge in our hearts. That was then, this is now.

So, the hope I have in tomorrow’s sunrise is for me to remember that it is another day I am blessed with filled with new mercies and grace for me and those I love/loved.