a look back, part 1...

As I was rummaging through a drawer, I happened upon an old journal from 2010, the year Caroline's hair mysteriously began falling out slowly over the course of 10 months until she was completely bald as we know her now.

Though I blogged very publicly during that time, I just came across these personal entries I wrote in the rawness of my heartbreak, and thought I might look back and share some of them with you, especially in light of how far along He has graciously brought me over the past four years.

To God be the glory.  He has truly done great things.

***********************
2/2010
Feeling like I want to explode
or crawl up into a dark, dark cave
Where did my beautiful girl go
And when will this END?
God, what are you DOING
Breaking me of idols
But why break her?
I don't want your plan
My way is better
I want hair over holiness
Beauty above suffering
No one will sit and feel like I do
Wanting more answers
Not knowing where to turn
I can't take it
The pain is too great
Crying doesn't make it go away
Nothing can.
Pass over her.  Afflict me.


2/20/10
Don't know how to cope sometimes.
Don't know what that looks like.
I function.  Somehow.
The inside is torn and beaten down
while the outside smiles and performs.
Dreading even my own own fellowship
Where people will look and stare
"Don't talk to me about it," I think.
"Yet don't ignore it, either."
Which is it?
Don't even know what helps.
When will this end?
Oh God, please stop this.
She is too beautiful.
She is too special.
Please keep her from pain.
Please help us to take a day at a time.
I want to put her hair in bows,
in ponytails and braids.
Give me grace and peace within
Peace to accept
To know when to stop fighting
To know how to handle the stares and the questions with grace
To teach my daughter that she is beautiful
I do not want this lot.
Please heal, restore, grow, replenish.
Lead us through this.
Give us the strength to walk by faith
Because the sight is so, so sad.
Worsens every day.
A visible sign, hidden from no one.
One look and you know.
There is no covering up.
Vulnerable.
Helpless.
So thankful she is alive, active, and smart,
thoughtful, healthy and strong
Caring and perceiving, growing in every way except one.
While she may look sick to you,
she is still beauty to me.
But even a hat cannot cover my broken heart.

2/24/10
Slowly acceptance creeps in
But not a submissive one
No longer placing hope in regrowth
Accepting a future of pain
More like "acknowledging," rather.
I don't like it.
I don't like
that I am forgetting her with hair
and that this is now my normal.

3-2-10  (with the possible diagnosis of celiac...)

Celiac?  Is it?
Excitement and dread
Wanting an answer, a cure
Yet dreading the sacrifice ahead
A long road, but perhaps with hair??
So happy and hopeful
Impatiently waiting.

to be continued...