Sometimes I break

Sometimes I remind myself that I'm just loosing hair.

I'm not dying.

I'm healthy. My family is healthy.

I've been blessed with another baby. 

I take mental inventory of the many women I've met throughout my life who cannot have children.  I think of all the women who have tragically lost children and were forced to say goodbye too soon.  I reflect on the many heartbreaking circumstances that are not mine.  I remember the agonizing moments were I have amounted to a puddle on the floor pleading for Divine help and a healing Hand; I've survived worse.

I tell myself that I am strong.

I am a survivor, not a victim.

It's just hair.

But I still break.

I've known that my hair is falling out, but today two pictures taken 10 weeks apart illustrate just how much is gone.  I've kept my crying to a minimum because crying during pregnancy always makes me throw up.  Today, however, I sobbed.  I didn't care who heard or if I'd be vomiting because of it.

This is the same side of my head; one image is flipped to make it look otherwise.

Next thing I knew, a book about Christ's atonement was thrown from my nightstand.  I reached the pinnacle of anger and feelings of abandonment from the God that I love. I just began yelling.

Is a NORMAL pregnancy too much to ask? 

Am I really THAT selfish for not wanting my hair to fall out?

Why can't I have a healthy baby AND keep my hair, too?

Oh, but I have to be thankful and strong, right? Because other people have it worse than I do.

I AM SICK OF BEING STRONG.

While yelling was certainly irreverent, and it isn't something I condone, it was very cathartic.  I was finally being sincere with myself and with my Heavenly Father. I'm not nearly as strong as I pretend and diminishing my hurt "because other people have it worse" isn't helpful. I don't need to put on my strong face for Him.  In fact, we are asked to "Cast all your care upon him; for he careth for you." (1Peter 5:7)  

The last words I uttered aloud rang in my ears: I am sick of being strong. Unexpectedly my mind began to fill with thoughts. Beautiful, comforting thoughts and reminders:

You don't have to be strong alone.  Christ came to Earth so that you never have to be strong on your own.  He made the choice to abandon His Godliness in order to suffer and FEEL the very pains and heartbreak that you will ever endure. Why?  Because of perfect love.  Nobody has ever given so much and so willingly than He.

Your Savior performed miracles driven by love, not a hidden agenda.  He befriended mortals when He didn't have to.  He wept at the sorrow of His friends. He is the best friend you'll ever have.

On an intellectual level, He understands your suffering. Because of the Atonement, He also FEELS your pain.  He can comfort you both with sympathy and empathy.  

On that day of suffering, your wounds became His wounds.

Vanessa, REJOICE in His glorious invitation: "Come unto me, all ye that are heavy laden, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11:28).

I'll continue to break, because that is my human nature. Today, thankfully, I was reminded that my wounds are His wounds.  It's not just hair. It's my hair and loosing it is the cause of my sadness and anxiety, therefore He cares. Petty or as vain as it may be, HE CARES and He knows perfectly how I feel. 

Next time I break, I'll remember that He already broke for me and that makes walking through this trial feel less lonely.