In all serious though, yesterday was a pretty somber day for me. I was in a funk and I just couldn't shake it. Ben knew I was not feeling so well. He asked me what was up. I told him I was just so tired of being strong. Of picking myself back up again every single time something hard happens. Like my miscarriages. He said "Hey, why don't you go get that tattoo you've been wanting. I'll come too". So we took L over to his GG and Papa's house. We said we had some errands to run. They were of course more than happy to babysit, although maybe they would have objected had we told them where we were headed!
When we got to Chicago tattoo, I felt myself getting so nervous. I was debating between getting L's name or getting three little birds to represent the babies we lost. In the end I just couldn't do the birds right now. As much as I love the idea, it might be hard to be reminded of our losses every day. So I got L's name on my mid back. And I love it. I love it because my boy is my favorite blessing. Because he reminds me that God is good even when I feel like God wants nothing to do with me. My son reminds me that sometimes miracles can happen. Who wouldn't want another reminder of that?
The tattoo was crazy painful. The guy asked me if I was afraid. I said no, that I had been through so much that week that this should be a cake walk. Guess what. It still hurt. But I was sitting backwards in the chair, getting that silly tattoo, I had some time to think. The thing is, part of me was rebelling. Rebelling from that good girl image I have tried so hard to make for myself. Rebelling from what a "normal" Christian is supposed to look like. Saying screw you to whatever health issues are plaguing my reproductive system time and time again. My mom always told me that Christians shouldn't get tattoos, that God didn't want us to mark ourselves like heathens (Mom, you know I love you :). Well, this sounds awful, but as her words played over and over, I thought to myself "Well, I feel like God's forgotten me right now. Maybe a little distinction might only help". I know. Not my finest moment.
Oh, my husband got a tattoo also. And can I just say how HOT it is? I have always loved tattoos. Maybe it's because I was never supposed to, but dang. I'm pretty happy with how they both turned out.
So, now we're THAT couple. The one that goes to tattoo parlors for date nights. I feel so edgy :)
3 comments:
I started following your blog recently, as I'm also a survivor of recurrent pregnancy loss and a Christian who does her best to try to trust God's plan for my life. First, I am so sorry for your loss. My heart goes out to you. Second, I can totally relate to wanting to get a tattoo (though you have more guts than me). On a recent trip for work (my third in three consecutive weekends away from my toddler), I was surprised at the intensity of the urge that I got to get a tattoo of her initials, just so that I could feel connected to her when I was away and missing her. I'll be praying for you as you put your pieces back together.
Love it!! :)
I finally figured out what I would do if I EVER got a tattoo, which will probably be never.
Not telling, but I've figured it out. ;-)
Wasn't that extremely painful on your back/ribs? I would definitely ask where it would hurt the least!
=D
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