joy.

joy.

I scrolled right on past the post the first time I saw it. Several friends shared the video made by For King and Country this last week. I love their music but I'm not feeling too much of that right now. I don't know how many times I scrolled past, but when I finally hit play, the song did not disappoint.

Last Tuesday I confided in my therapist that I am not finding joy in much of anything. I'm going through the motions, forcing myself to get up and just 'do' whether I feel it or not. I told her that so much of my energy goes into just getting out of bed that I am tired much of the day and fall asleep right away when my head hits the pillow at night.

Grief is exhausting. And quite frankly, I'm tired of it. Tired of being tired. Tired of not feeling the feelings I used to feel. I started to get very discouraged last week, especially on Gabriel's due date. We are having some troubles with insurance covering some of the testing we had done and I'd made some phone calls that day that made me feel lost and abandoned. Is this really what I have to worry about now? Thousands of dollars in testing that may not be covered that gave us no answers AND Gabriel's gone? THIS. IS. UNFAIR.

I laid on the couch that morning in tears after writing my last blog post. I seriously considered just staying there, curled up, letting the kids run around the house and forage for food while I binged on Netflix and carbs. (And it would have been completely understandable if I'd stayed there and done that.)

However.

I didn't want to. I feel as though I've been robbed of so much already. I will miss the entirety of the lives of half of my children. I will never see them grow. Never see them smile. They will never have a first day of school. They will never graduate, get married, have children of their own.

And I have traded the word him now to instead write them. That is a lot for a Momma heart to bear.

I got up off my couch, found one of my favorite YouTube workout channels, and I got moving. Then I messaged my sister, girl, I was feeling really crappy. But I got up, and I did something good for me. Now I have that exercise high you get when you sweat! 

"Oh sister, I am so proud of you. Now I'm motivated to move too!" she'd replied.

I wish I could change this story. I wish I could be tired from the cries of a newborn in the middle of the night again. I wish I ached from the physical demands of caring for 3 little ones 5 and under. But I can't, and I don't.

The lyrics of "joy" brought a simple comfort when I heard them:
Gotta get that fire, fire, back in my bones,
Before my heart, heart, turns into stone...

...The time has come to make a choice.
And I choose joy.

I messaged a friend, I love these lyrics. But I'm not choosing joy. I'm fighting for it. I'm clinging to the tiny bits I may feel every so often. Much has been stolen from me. But I refuse to let THAT be taken too. My joy will not leave me. Not today. Not ever. I will fight to the death to keep my joy. No matter how big or how little, it's mine and I want to keep it.

I am a fighter, and a good one at that. I will win this battle in which my personal joy is at stake.

I. Will.

I know it's no accident that I had chosen this word long before Gabriel's diagnosis to adorn our walls. I placed this word near a picture of one my children who left this earth 6 years ago:

I chose it as the word for June when I designed our calendar in December:

It wasn't until today that I realized I have been preparing for these awful moments (and the awful moments to come) for years. How do I increase my joy? How do I choose it when the unthinkable has happened? How do I continue to fight for it?

Gratitude.

I knowingly, intentionally, regularly practice gratitude. Even still. My relationship with God is in a valley. I am still very much upset with all that has happened. I miss my boys. I want them here with me. I will always want that. 

But I can want this impossible thing and still be grateful. Gratitude and grief. Hand in hand. Side by side. I grieve because I love them. I am grateful they are mine to have held and loved and to continue loving until I reach the end of my days. I am joyful because I have pictures and stories of these sweet boys who lived but minutes in my arms.

I repeated that word the day Gabriel was born. 

I'm so happy. I feel only joy in this moment. He is here, in my arms. And I get to love him.

My nurse, Jill, came to say goodbye to me before I was discharged from the hospital. I just could not believe those were the words that came out of your mouth, she'd said. I could not imagine being happy in such a moment. 

My Mom said something similar, You really surprised us when you said you felt joy.

And in those moments? I did. I remember my heart soaring with happiness that this beautiful baby was in my arms. I remember the happy feeling of touching his nose, kissing his lips, smelling his sweet baby smell. 

I remember saying, This is going to be awful when we have to say goodbye. But in this moment, I will embrace the joy that I feel right now. 

Right. Now. 

This weekend has provided many moments to be grateful for. The joy is harder to find these days, but it is there. And it will grow.

Gratitude is a muscle that needs flexed. Just as I move my body now to regain physical strength, I'm intent on exercising my gratitude muscle until my joy has fully returned. 

I'm grateful for these two beautiful beings who call me 'Momma'. Even when it's 67,000 times a day and I want to pull my hair out. I'm pretty sure they're making up for the other two voices that are missing ;-)

I'm grateful that I get to teach these little people life skills. My joy was increased ten-fold when I watched her take pride in making her own breakfast.

I am grateful for this beautiful weather and for the huge grins that come when we ask, "Do you want to go outside and play in the water?" I can think of few things that are more joyful than little ones splashing. I can literally hear the giggles in these pictures.

I am grateful for this man of mine. This man, who when asked what he wanted for Father's Day replied, "I just really love spending time with you." So I subscribed to Date Night In a Box. We dressed up, turned on some music, made the recipe given for the date this month...and played Minute to Win It. I spent an entire year writing things that made me grateful for him, and there are many many more than 365 to list. He brings me joy every single day. I am grateful to call him mine. And I am his.

I am grateful for so much more than the pictures above, and we keep a family gratitude journal on an end table with a pen. It keeps us mindful to record our gratitude. A record of our joy. 

The lyrics continue.
I need that joy, joy joy, joy
Down in my heart, down in my heart to stay.
I need that joy, joy, joy, joy
Down in my heart, down in my heart to stay.

Yes.

I do.

It's worth fighting for.