Many years ago, a friend of mine who is fighting ALS (Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, or Lou Gehrig Disease) shared that we all are going through our own fires. For him, it was ALS. For others it might be cancer, depression, waiting for "Mr or Mrs Right". For me, it was infertility. But the point was, it didn't matter what our fire was, it was still fire. Sure, you look at cancer and see it as a forest fire, and might look at someone going through a divorce as only a kitchen stove top fire, but it's still fire none the less. And, to that point, the person going through a divorce feels as if their fire is as big as a forest fire.
The point being, we all have a fire. We all have or have had something that is so big we feel like it can't be overcome. There's been a moment, or there will be a moment where you are stuck in a fire.
And then you get out of it.
The chemo treatment ends, you find love, you are cured, you get pregnant. You're through your fire! Yahoo!
But now what...
For me, I thought after all those years of hurting, the years of praying, the years of walking through my fire, I thought after all was said and done and I was pregnant/had a baby, it would be over. The smoke would clear, the fire would be put out, the firemen would drive away in their trucks and everything would be back to normal. I figured that pain would go away. And why shouldn't it? Your fire has been put out!
But it hasn't.
Even 10 months after having Josiah, my heart still hurts. I still feel at times that I'm walking through my fire, even though I'm out the other side. Why is that?? And then when I sat down and thought about it, it came to me. Just because my fire was put out, doesn't mean I didn't get burned.
Just because my fire was put out, doesn't mean I didn't get burned.
If you went through a physical fire, and were stuck in a building, chances are you would have burns, or trouble breathing from smoke inhalation. It could take a long time to recover from those things, and some people have lasting marks from burns on them forever. Although the scar may fade, and the breathing gets easier, they're still there. If you look closely enough, the scars are still there.
The woman in remission may be cancer free, but she still hurts and prays that it doesn't come back. She's burned from her fire,
The man who's divorce was finalized may be legally done, but he still hurts every time he drops his kids off and has to see his ex. He's burned from his fire.
The woman has her baby and is happier than ever, but she still feels that pit in her stomach for her friends who are still waiting, praying their miracles to come just as hers had. She's burned from her fire.
Friends, I'm not perfect. Far far far from it. I have jealousy. I see people on facebook getting pregnant and I'm so happy for them, but then I wonder "How long did it take?" and my heart sinks thinking how long it took for my sweet boy to be with us, and how quick it took them. I'm overwhelmed with joy for them, but then I think of those who are still waiting and ask "why not them?"
My fire is out, but my wounds are not healed.
This is all probably a little crazy, and I'm totally aware of that. I haven't gotten good sleep in a long time. But I just wanted to let you know, you're not alone. If you're struggling, you're not alone. If you're through your pain and trials, but still have that pit in your stomach, you're not alone. Reach out.
I love you all!
Xo
Amanda
(PS Here's a picture of that sweet little dude)
(PS Here's a picture of that sweet little dude)
