subject: Young Widowhood [print this page] Young Widowhood Young Widowhood
We were running a little behind schedule, but Tim wanted to do three things: call his sister, finish a two year project (18 months ahead of schedule) and stop by the Army/Navy Surplus store. Little did we know that those would be his final acts on this earth. While traveling northbound on Interstate 71 in Columbus, Ohio, we were involved in an automobile accident that left Tim brain-dead in one hospital, our two-year-old son, Jai, in another hospital with a slight concussion and head lacerations, and me in still another hospital with five broken ribs and a confirmed pregnancy. In an instant my life was forever changed. I was only 24 years old.
An outpouring of love and support came from all over the country and I was completely surrounded by family, friends, neighbors and co-workes. Yet I was numb. In the days before the funeral I was bombarded with phone calls, food, cards and visitors. But as soon as the services were over, the calls and visits decreased drastically. Gratefully two dear friends chose to stay with me because my parents had to return home to Michigan.
My physicians advised me to abort the baby. They explained to me that I had a tear in my womb that could result in spontaneous abortion. My broken ribs would not be able to properly heal while I was carrying a baby and the expanding rib cage would cause excruciating pain. There was a high likelihood that the baby would be born with some type of major disability, perhaps compounded by blindness and/or deafness. Since Jai had autism, the doctors felt that another disabled child would be way too overwhelming for me. Yet my decision was firm and final. No abortion.
My friends eventually had to return to their new husbands and Jai had to return to his special preschool program designed to tend to the specific needs of children with autism. However, due to the nature of my injuries and the high risk pregnancy, I was not releasedfor work.Day after lonely day I sat at home. I soon realized that the best of life and the worst of life is that life goes on. My heart ached worse than the slight morning sickness and my broken ribs. I was terrified that if I complained about my situation people would soon weary of hearing it all. So I put on a happy face and tried to pretend that all was well. I shed plenty of private tears during this dark time.
I tried to attend grief support groups, but I found them to be depressing. We left those meetings without hope and feeling even more isolated than before we got there. I tried connecting with single-parenting groups, but felt out of place as this group failed to meet my specific needs. I chose to not confide in my parents since my father was dying of colon and liver cancer during this time in my grief. I did my best to cheer them up and not let them know the pain in my heart.
The turning point in my life came when I chose to turn wholeheartedly to God, leaning heavily upon Him for comfort and support. He was my hope and my stay. The more I studied and prayed, the more I found that I was never truly alone. In a real and tangible way He showed me that He loved me just because. In His Word I found stories similar to my own in a way I had never noticed them before. Talk about a support group! I clung to God's Word, trusted in His promises and watched His Word began to heal my brokeness.
Once God began to heal my heart, He impressed me that it was time to heal my emotions and I sought professional counseling. The ability to speak openly about my grief, my life and my needs was a necessary step in the healing process. Within a few months I became a mother for the second time. Special birth announcements were made with a double-exposed picture of me and Tim on the front. The inscription read, "Tim's last and most precious gift of love to Jai and me was our son, Brandon ... weighing in at 7 lbs, 1/4 oz.. The handsome bundle of joy was born on Father's Day ..." When Brandon was five weeks old, my father died.
It was because of this dark period in my life that I became certified in Grief Recovery. Of course, one never "recovers" from great loss, but there are ways in which to learn how tonavigate those storm-tossed waters. I've been blessed to find those paths, with God's help.
