Does busy = hiding?

When we found out I needed the first surgery, my Mom came, friends came daily, friend came and stayed, things calmed for a moment and then we found out I needed a second surgery and friends came, friend came and stayed, my Mother-in-law came, had a weekend of just us and then I went to my in-laws for a week... being back at home this week has been scary. There's been no one holding my hand or calling daily or coming daily or or or... To face the silence when Matthew's at school and Mark is asleep is hard. I've found myself since Sunday DIVING into this couponing thing. I do mean DIVING. I was up until 2:30 last night creating the FB group "The Summit Savers" to just distract me from the quietness. Sunday, my pastor said something about April and May becoming the new December as far as the calendar goes. In the next four weeks before I leave for a lengthy trip to Missouri, I'm participating in a blood drive, in our church's Joy Prom, having a girls night at my house with my moms club, having friends over for dinner, for brunch, for chalking outside in the driveway, for just hanging out with no agenda. I'm going to a scrabooking morning, on a different day a lengthy scrapbooking marathon, we have a wedding ceremony to go to, we have more family coming into town, I'm hosting my annual "It's MAY!" Pampered Chef party, a House party with Red Barron Pizza, Oh yah, we're also going to a game night party, what else?? ... see? All of a sudden we are all REALLY busy again. And with me, I wonder if I'm not creating busyness, just to keep hiding. It's hard to sit in the silence and think. It's hard to not let my thoughts drift elsewhere when I'm alone. Drift off to places I don't want to visit.

..... Tonight at church, Pastor's class was about "do babies go to Heaven?" mmmmm. I wasn't sure I wanted to be in there. I knew I wanted to know what he had to say, but I wasn't sure if I really wanted to be physically there. What if he said something I didn't want to hear? What if he said something that disagreed with what I believe in my heart? ... It was a good talk though... I derailed. I didn't intend to discuss that. But since I'm here, he chiseled at some opinions people have. And he questions some thoughts. I love how he brings scripture into his messages from all over the bible. He was in 1st John 2 and Jonah 4 and Romans 5 and Psalms 51 to help illustrate his points. Next week I'm interested in what he'll say as we dig further into the conversation and look at 2nd Samuel.

(Alice, come back Alice)

See? I don't even want to talk about not talking about it... sigh.

All that to say... this has been speaking to me... I'm reading a book called Grieving the child I never knew by Kathe Wunnenbery. It's a devotional actually, there's a place every page or two to stop, think and write about the previous section. So far the book has been right on with my feelings. My pain is a little raw still. So some of it I wonder if it's not for someone who's been grieving a long time... but still it's been interesting. I'm not speed reading through this thing, just taking a few pages a time every couple days. It's deep and it's pulling deep emotions out of me...

This passage I can't get over. Even though I have already read past this section, I keep reading it. And I wonder about my schedule and the amount of busyness I've created lately. This is a small portion of Ms. Wunnenbery's writing...

Have you ever been so busy that you were unable to think or fee? I have.

Activity distracts me from facing the pain of my loss. In a sense, my “to do” list keeps me missing in action. The more I do, the less I feel. The less I feel, the less I hurt. Hiding in my foxhole of busyness, I am sheltered from the battle zone of loss. I can avoid the cross fire of people’s questions and the emotional explosions from my hurt. Armed with my Daytimer and camouflaged by fatigue, I feel safe.

Unfortunately, I don’t realize that I am at war with myself. Rest is my enemy. I convince myself that “busy is better” and the war inside me rages on. Then I’m hit with a missile of reality. It slows me down. I cringe in pain from the flashbacks of my losses.

Since most of my wounds aren’t visible from my loss, I ignore them and keep moving. Then another missile of reality hits. My wound of fear is exposed. I’m afraid to face my loss. Will I lose another child? Control is my other unhealed battle scar. I couldn’t control my body or the circumstances that led to the loss of my child but I can control my schedule and how I grieve.

I need to heal, but I don’t know how…