in sickness and in health

I love my children. They are so smart, so gorgeous, so strong. I strive to do anything and everything for them. I don't mind getting up in the night to care for them. To gaze at their cute little noses and long eyelashes. I often let them sneak into our bed when their Daddy is at work. I love to have them near and smell their little necks and kiss their little eyelashes. And when I was pregnant I would hold them as I slept and feel their little feet or knees or bum.
I wish it was all this pleasant. I wish I had more patience. I am exhausted. I fear I am painting the wrong picture sometimes. I don't mind being exhausted by lost sleep and long days. I am exhausted deep within my soul. I am saddened by the fact that I feel things ten times more than I should. I am anxious about anything that could possibly happen. And I don't choose this. I feel everything that could happen. It races through my mind and I fight for it to pass. I am exhausted. An internal war. At night I pray for peace and God hears my cry.
I hope that he can take this all from me. My loss was such a shock. A huge ordeal in secret. I see MacCrea often in my mind. Holding him. It makes me want to be sick. Then it makes me want to cry. Then I do cry a little. Then I move on. I tuck it away and wait for heaven. I wait for healing.....