the valley

when i was a nine-year-old evangelical, a new gospel song became a huge hit at every revival meeting and church convention and campmeeting i attended. as i recall, the chorus went: "hold on, my child,/joy comes in the morning./weeping only lasts for the night./hold on, my child,/joy comes in the morning./the darkest hour means dawn is just in sight."

it was always a pretty dramatic event - the gospel equivalent of whitney houston's version of "i will always love you" - and was guaranteed to make the old-timers whoop and yell. i haven't thought about that song in a while, but i can't get it off my mind today.

last night was the lowest of low points so far since hans's death. i had been walking on eggshells around justin for a week, trying to make nice and go along with what he wanted and be gentle with him, all the while my heart was breaking because i wanted to talk about having another child - in detail - and justin did not want to even think about the subject at this point. all of the frustration that had built up for a week came blowing out in steaming bursts of snide, sarcastic cuts that i didn't even mean; i just wanted to punish justin for what i felt like was him punishing me by not wanting to discuss it. we fought for an eternity and couldn't make each other understand our positions and ended up hurting each other to a degree we never thought possible.

and then justin told me that he didn't want to think about another child yet because right now he just wanted to hold hans close to him, and if he had another child he would need to hold that child close and couldn't hold hans as close.

and in that moment i realized that i did not want to spread hans's ashes in south africa next year (the scheduling of which being one of the recurring points of our fight) for pretty much the same reason - that i wanted to keep hans close to me, not turn him loose - and i told justin.

i think that was the first time we understood each other in a week. maybe longer.

(in case you're lost, the above "aha!" moment represents the dawn after the darkest hour.)

today has been mixed. we sat up in the balcony at the west side market and watched all of the families with toddlers and preschoolers and discussed for which kids we would make an exception to our agreement that we would never use one of those kid leashes. we went to the mall and i got three pairs of shoes for $50, including tax! justin got a new pair of sneakers and a new toothbrush and a new blade for his electric razor, which we hadn't been able to find for like a year. we saw justin's brother at the mall and hung out in the food court with him and found out his wedding reception will probably be in the primate house at the zoo. and we've been able to be kind to each other.

but today we also got the bereavement package from the march of dimes in the mail, and it sucked. the package itself was good - everything it should be - but it sucked to have to get it, and to read it, and to relive everything. i couldn't stop crying for a long time, and even after i got it together enough to leave the house, i teared up periodically all afternoon. i still just want my son back.

but i have my husband back, which is what i want most.