Un-Religious
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve opened up this screen to type something today… and nothing comes out. Or I start writing and it just sounds wrong. I hate it when I have so much floating around in my head, but it’s such a muddle of thoughts that I can’t really make anything coherent out of it.
I find myself thinking outloud a lot – like I wrote before, sending a “prayer” out into the nothingness. I catch myself doing it and question what the hell I’m doing. I decided my belief hasn’t changed – I still don’t believe in a god who is listening to what I say. It’s more along the lines of my writing. Before I started blogging, when I was in high school and even before then, I kept a diary. Part of my writing is to have a record of my life, something I can look back at. But part of my writing is the simple urge to express myself. It really doesn’t matter if I have someone listening or not (sometimes that can be a hindrance) – sometimes, like in the case of my personal hand-written diaries, I took steps to ensure no one did read it. I wasn’t writing to a divine being, I was just writing to write. Just as now, when I stop about my day and mutter and swear and beg and plead. It’s a release, it’s a meditation. It’s about awknowledging those emotions that try to overwhelm me.
The whole god thing really pisses me off a lot lately. Once in a while I’ll come across some post or another where someone very innocently mentions how their faith, their prayers, have kept their baby safe. Even a simple praising god for the safety and health of their child, their pregnancy. It just overwhelms me with frustration. Do these people believe that their god didn’t like me enough? Or maybe they think that my lack of faith is why their god killed my baby? How the hell do they reconcile themselves when someone of their own faith loses a child? “God has a plan.” Well if that’s the case, then their prayers for their baby had absolutely NO effect, either god’s plan was for the baby to live, or the baby to die. I will never understand, it just seems so non-sensical. I see many people finding comfort in their faith after a loss… I simply cannot imagine it. If I really thought there was a being, a creator, who allowed my baby to die, who lets me suffer like this, I would be pissed beyond belief.
I also don’t believe in an afterlife. I don’t believe I’m going to be reunited with Devin one day, I don’t believe he’s “alive in spirit.” I wrote about Tess and the rainbow bridge, and I said “IF there was a heaven.” I really meant that if. To me the rainbow bridge is another myth, a folklore story. It’s a good story, it’s good symbolism. But it’s just not real. Devin is dead. He lived for a little while, and now he is gone. I weep mostly for the potential him that was lost. I think about the life he should have had – that’s what hurts the most. I hurt for me and my husband, who know what we lost. Death itself doesn’t scare me. Maybe that’s strange to people. My own husband (also an athiest) is terrified of death. But to me… once you’re dead you don’t think, you don’t feel, you don’t hurt. You can’t feel sad about the things you never got to do, you can’t miss your loved ones, you can’t wish for something different. The part I fear about death is other people dying: my husband, my brother, my parents, my friends, my pets. My baby. I fear their deaths – I fear them leaving me.
Despite all of that, I do find myself feeling a little more… spiritual, as Kel put it. It started before Devin died, though… it started when I got pregnant. I felt a connection with myself – and with the earth – that I’ve never felt before. All my life I felt like I was searching. When I was 13 I researched paganism and practiced meditation. Later, when I was 16 or 17 I found Pantheism. Over the years I have journalled extensively, trying to dig myself out of my depression and anxiety by self-analysis and introspection. People have commented to me many times in the past that I am extremely self-aware. I was like a scholar who studied something and knew the facts inside out, but lacked a true understanding, a connection. I somehow have found it. I don’t know if I still have it – lately my anger at the world has gotten in the way of any kind of appreciation – but I still recognize how it felt and sometimes I get it back.
The thing that keeps me going is the thought that this is the only life I’m going to get and the best thing to do is to enjoy what I have, look forward to the future, and remember the past. I won’t lie, there have been times since we lost Devin where I wonder what the hell the point of continuing is. Not in a suicidal sense, but it is so tempting to just… give up. To crawl into bed, pull the blankets over my head, and stay there. I mean, who cares about work or finances or anything else. My baby is dead. Nothing else seems to matter. But then reality hits and I realize I can’t do that… if I give up on everything I might as well write off the rest of my life. Who knows what else is out there? I remind myself of the times in my past where I was at the bottom of a well and wanted to give up. But I got out of it, I moved forward, and I found wonderful things like my husband.
Life sucks… but life doesn’t have it out for me. It’s a roll of the dice, it’s a winding road… probabilities and statistics. I’ve always found comfort in running the numbers, studying the facts. The world is scientific. It is bare, it is cold. It’s the human aspect that creates meaning. It is a human blessing that we can think about the meaning of things. We can wonder why… look for answers. We can imagine. We can grieve what we never had. It is also our curse.
this is a beautiful post, natalie. ~luna
That makes a lot of sense.
And: *hugs*
Nat,
I told you on MLW that I wanted you to write something concerning your spirituality and I am not disappointed.
I do personally believe in some type of spiritual life (not something I would ever put on others or judge them based on) but I have also found myself questioning so many things lately based on my own life and those thing that happen to the ones I care about.
One of my biggest things lately in my own life has been…if there really is a God… why does this God allow so much suffering? For bad things to happen? Why does this God allow for war, starvation, pain, death, loss, ect?
Every religion has their answer for that, but it has yet to be an answer that I am satisfied with.
Like Den I’ve spent most of my life being terrified of death. Dying myself. But like you I am also scared of losing the ones I love almost as much as my own demise, or possibly more. Part of my own fear is the whole afterlife thing. It is not a heaven/hell thing for me. It is for me, let death=rest in some manner. Not experiencing anything that made us tired and pained on this earth. And even if that = nothingness, simply no longer existing, I’m actually beginning to find more comfort in that than I thought possible.
Your writing here…made me think a little more about my own going ons lately, and it is really resonating with me lately, that one can’t live for hopes of what life could be after death. It doesn’t even have to have anything to do with faith…for me it is about making the best of each moment in this one life which we can be sure we have been given.
Thank you for making me really think about this, this morning.
Thank you for sharing such an honest post. You did a lovely job of putting into words pretty much exactly how I feel about god/faith and death. Seriously, I could cut and paste most of your post and say “this is how I feel about these things”. I really liked your explanation of ‘sending a “prayer†out into the nothingness’. Sometimes I catch myself doing the same thing and then I stop myself and wonder what the heck I’m doing since I don’t believe that there is a god out there listening to me. Often I’ve thought how nice it would be if I did believe. If I could truly believe that there was a god who had some grand plan that I wasn’t supposed to question, maybe I would find some comfort. But I just don’t believe that. So, I really like your description of your “prayers” as a release or meditation. And since, like you, I don’t believe in an afterlife, I’m going to try to do a better job of remembering what you wrote about this being the only life we get and making the most of it. Thanks again.
I agree that “God has a plan” is one of the crappiest things you can hear right now.
I’m a Christian, and I hated hearing that in church after my miscarriages (no where near as devastating as your situation). It’s something people say when they don’t know what to say, and really, they should probably just shut up and be there with you.
It’s hard to explain the feeling of being in a relationship with God. Many of us cling to it when we are sad and are grateful to Him when we are happy. Like idiots, we assume you know how we feel about Him and say things to you that you couldn’t possibly relate to, especially when you’re getting kicked in the teeth.
Thank you for your honesty, you touch my heart in so many ways when I read your blog.
Delurking to say, I consider myself a Christian, but I too have had these same thoughts. I am not a bible thumper, hell, I don’t even go to church but I personally believe I have a higher power in my life. The only answer I have for myself when I question things like this is that sometimes a soul is so perfect that they don’t have to do their “Time” here on earth and God takes them early. Not as punishment for a parent not being a good person, as God too watched his own son suffer and die. There are no answers that perfectly satisfy, at least not for me, and I’m not trying to convert anyone. I just felt compelled to comment. We’ll never know each other IRL but your blog has not only brought tears to my eyes , but made me outright cry for your loss. I so wish for you to have the chance again to be a mother, and to continue honoring Devin every day as you have been by being his mother.
I am also de-lurking to say this post, especially your 3rd paragraph, expresses perfectly how I feel. Although, I do believe in God, I just don’t believe that he has “a plan” or that prayers are what save people (and not praying condemns people). I believe he limits his control and lets our lives just go on and we are the ones in control, he’s just a support system. After dealing with infertility and loss, I know that MY God doesn’t choose to make people suffer like this…sometimes bad stuff just happens and it wasn’t part of a plan, something he intentionally inflicted upon us, and it sure as heck doesn’t “happen for a reason.”
Very little makes me not want to talk to people as immediately as watching them claim that good things in their lives (or coming back from bad things) are all about them asking God for those things and God giving those things to them. I kinda just stare at people like that, wondering whether they have ever encountered real pain, real loss? And whether they ever bother to extend a thought to its logical conclusion. Because you are absolutely right– if they deserved their good things, we must deserve our bad things. And boy, we must be real assess to deserve a dead baby, no?
My religion doesn’t have an overriding theology for the afterlife, and emphasizes our obligation to do good deeds in this life instead. It also isn’t big on divine intervention, and all of that is what allowed me to essentially not have my faith shaken by the death of my son. I didn’t have to ask why because I knew there wasn’t an answer. Why not us, as I asked my mother. We are no more special than anyone else. We didn’t deserve this, of course not, but neither does anyone else. Science and religion actually integrate pretty seamlessly for me on this point– there are errors and accidents, and if they weren’t, we wouldn’t be here, we would still all be bacteria or primordial soup. Sorry to babble. I have no idea whether this is helpful at all.
Not sure if you’re a reader, but “When Bad Things Happen to Good People,” by Harold Kushner, talks about everything you’re writing about here. He wrote it after learning his son had progeria, a disease that led to his death at 14. It’s very accessible, too, for anyone of any background, religion-wise, to read.
Natalie – this entry is so well written, and although I have not gone through what you are experiencing, I too, throw a prayer out into ‘nothingness’…like I’m talking to the universe or something.
Anyway I just wanted you to know I’m always thinking of you and your family, and always reading your entries. You have beautiful writing.
I was interested in your thoughts considering that I’m a Christian (Baptist). I think it’s inevitable that certain suffering exist in the world (as Raychel described-war, starvation) because humans have free will. We have the free will to do the wrong thing or hurt others. I believe that God gave us the free will because otherwise we would be like robots. Is that a life worth living?
I can’t explain why God would take a baby or give a child cancer and never will be able to.. I do believe that this life on earth is only temporary. I believe I will spend eternity in Heaven.
I’m sorry you are so depressed. Even as a Christian I feel depressed a lot. Life is difficult and you have been given one of the worst trials I can imagine. I’m so sorry.
“Even as a Christian I feel depressed a lot.” what is that supposed to mean…..I don’t get it. Not trying to start a war here but I just don’t understand why Carrie would word that sentence that way.
Maybe Carrie believes that Christians don’t get as depressed as non-Christians? I’m not sure, that wording got me too.
As a side note…. my depression is separate from my grieving. I am not depressed… I am grieving. Just had to clarify, as I’ve dealt with depression all my life as well and that is not what I am feeling now.
I’m right there with you. I am an athiest, and everything you have written, I have also thought. I HATE when people say there prayers somehow saved someone, or helped them through a rough time, or that God listens to them. Because I find it pretentious, like God listens to their prayers, but what about all those people with their unanswered prayers? They didn’t deserve their happy ending? Blech. It all sits wrong with me. Although I don’t turn to some supernatural being for my comfort, I do turn to my real flesh and blood husband and family. They are my support system, the people who answer my prayers. I know you are leaning heavily on your support system right now, and that’s what will get your through the grieving process. So many hugs to you!
Hi there, I am a recent lurker and felt compelled to comment. Please know I do not judge you in anyway and hope you are not angered by my response, that isn’t my intention at all. Natalie,God spared not His only Son….he could have saved him, but He loved us enough to sacrifice him so that we (all mankind who believe and repent) can have life eternal! Human pain and suffering exists because of man’s sinful fall so many years ago and NO ONE is exempt from it….not even precious, sinless little ones like your baby Devin…..your baby was innocent and blameless but because God allows Satan (and THAT is where all blame should lie) on this Earth suffering will continue until He comes again. If we didn’t have free will to choose whom to serve, our faith would be meaningless. We have to CHOOSE to believe, no matter what the circumstances. I do not believe God “takes” the lives of precious little ones. I do not claim to understand the why’s and cannot begin to imagine your suffering. I DO know that God (NOT Buddha, Mohammed etc.) grieves when His children are brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18), HIS heart was breaking to see Jesus suffering on the cross to pay for our sins. One day (and I fervently believe in our lifetime) He is coming back and if you are saved, you will see your loved ones again. If not, you will spend eternity in Hell. Sorry to be blunt, but that is the truth of it. I will praise His name no matter what happens to me in this life because I have hope for the future in Christ. My family could be taken from me, lose my health, whatever, I would be devastated and wish I was dead also but I would never deny the Lord. Even though I am not in your shoes, I can say that with absolute certainty. Your baby is the arms of a loving merciful creator, even if you choose not to believe one exists. One day EVERY knee shall bow and tongue confess that He alone is God (phillippians 2:8-10)
Well, I know that sounded preachy and self-righteous, and I am prepared for the onslaught of attacks that are sure to come as s result but know it was intended with a sincere heart.
I told you on MLW but I really wanted to comment here too on how I love your writing. You have a very special way of getting my thoughts and emotions “put at ease”. I have been feeling very restless in my soul lately, it’s nice to see others “faith/views”, I grow from others and reading your blog tonight was no different.
Love to you and Den. *hug*
Carmen, think for a moment about just how much impact a Muslim would have on you, telling you all about how wonderful Mohammed is. That’s about how much impact you talking about your god and your jesus means to me. It’s not that I don’t LIKE them; I simply don’t believe they exist.
I really enjoy conversing with people about religion. But I do NOT like being preached at, at ALL. Beyond the fact that you are wasting your breath, as you are NOT going to change my mind, you are being incredibly insensitive and disrespectful to MY beliefs.
This is my blog and I have a right to my own religion. I am an Athiest. My journey through my grief will be one on my own path. I DO NOT need your god to get me through it.
Do NOT preach to me.
Sorry to assume you were depressed. I just thought you might be because I sure would be if I was in your boat. I didn’t mean anything negative by “Even as a Christian..” I think a lot of people assume if you are a Christian, you are so happy all the time and that’s not the case for me at least.
Hugs, Nat.
Just wanted to give you some hugs.
It’s sucky that people have to try to tell you how you are feeling. And how you’d feel if you had “Something to believe in”. Believe in yourself, that’s my little tidbit.
I don’t think someone can correctly debate about religion without knowing everything about it. There are a lot of comments here about people who don’t believe things that Christians believe and a lot of the quotes are misconstrued.
Christianity isn’t a religion… it’s a relationship with God. That’s where a lot of people seem to get confused. And that’s okay! One thing about life is learning! And learning through books is the best.
If you’re ever interested and want to learn more about this faith, the atheist, Lee Strobel, sought to prove the Bible and Christianity wrong and wrote “Case For Faith”. Another atheist, Josh McDowell, wrote “Evidence That Demands a Verdict” but it is a difficult read.
While most people don’t believe in Jesus he was a real person. He is documented in historical textbooks, even by non-followers and people who HATED Him. You may not have learned it in highschool because they skip that chapter (I found it one year in highschool). You said you didn’t believe He existed, so I just wanted to point that out.
Anyway, I hope this pain eases! Don’t stop writing. It’s very therapeutic.
Uh, I don’t know how you feel about this, if it helps or makes things harder, but Angie just lost her baby girl Audrey due to many abnormalities and a heart defect. The link to her page is as follows:
http://audreycaroline.blogspot.com/
Again, I don’t know how that makes you feel and I won’t be offended if you don’t want to check it out.
Joy – Thank you very much for that link.
Gods plan…
A friend of mine who just had her baby after 7 (yes 7) years of trying sent this to me, it really touched my heart and I wanted to share it with all of you….
Couples experiencing infertility often receive well-meaning but extremely insensitive “adviceâ€. We can list all the most popular ones: “Just relax and you’ll get pregnantâ€, or “adopt and you’ll get pregnant,†of the most painful from those who think they’ve got the goods on God’s plan, “Maybe God never meant for you to have children.†The sheer audacity of making a statement like that never fails to amaze me.
These same people would never walk up to someone seeking treatment for cancer and say “Maybe God never meant for you to live.†However, because I am infertile, I’m supposed to get on with my life. It’s hard to understand that people can not see infertility for what it is, a disease for which I have to seek treatment. What if Jonas Salk had said to the parents of polio victims, “Maybe God meant for thousands of our children to be cripples, live in an iron lung, or die.†What if he’d never tried to find a cure? Who could think for one minute that was God’s plan?
What do I think God meant when he gave me infertility?
I think he meant for my husband and I to grow closer, become stronger, love deeper. I think God meant for us to find the fortitude within ourselves to get up every time infertility knocks us down. I think God meant for our medical community to discover medicines, invent medical equipment, create procedures and protocols. I think God meant for us to find a cure for infertility.
No, God never meant for me not to have children. That’s not my destiny; that’s just a fork in the road I’m on. I’ve been placed on the road less traveled, and, more compassion, deeper courage, and greater inner strength on this journey to resolution, and I haven’t let him down.
Frankly, if the truth be known, I think God has singled me out for a reason. I think God meant for me to build a thirst for a child so strong and so deep that when that baby is finally placed in my arms, it will be the longest, coolest, most refreshing drink I’ve ever known.
While I would never have chose infertility, I can not deny that a fertile woman could never know the joy that awaits me. Yes, one way or another, I will have a baby of my own. And the next time someone wants to offer me unsolicited advice I’ll say “ Don’t tell me what God meant when he handed me infertility. I already know”
Your story pulls at my heart. Last year on 2/23/07 I was induced at 22 wks. My little girl Emi, was stillborn. My husband and I are both carriers of a genetic trait, so each pregnancy has a 1 in 4 chance of recurrence of this lethal sydrome. Can you imagine how I felt, thinking that this could happen again? Well you know what, i bitched and complained and felt sorry for myslef, but took that gamble once more and I am now pregnant again at 20 wks – with no sign of the illness.
I want you to know that I clung to God equally when I was losing my first child, as I do now. I beleive that God’s answers to prayers are simple – no, yes and not right now. I will tell you this, God is a real presense in times of sorrow. Even if you don’t beleive in him or are unsure of him, he very much beleives in you and holds on to you. As he does your Devin and my Emi, and all others that are in his grace.
I’m glad you wrote this post, so is he. I ask you now, won’t you try this?: dare God to make his presense known to you. Ask him, if you are really there, if you really care let me know. He will.
Also please read the book that was suggested to you, The Case for Faith. You will be amazed.
I have cried reading your blog, because I KNOW YOUR PAIN. I am so terribly sorry that you and your husband lost your precious boy. Please hang on, and I was so glad to read that you are redirecting your efforts to TTC.
I am not going to sugar coat Christianity, Jesus was the first to say that it would not be easy. Don’t think that I did not shout and scream and nearly hate God. But I know that (beleive it or not) although he allowed my pain, it did not mean that he did not suffer with me, or that he does not now suffer with you. Christians have hard times and good times. But my relationship with God and whatever lessons he want to teach to me and through me are absolutely worth it.
HUGS
Hey Nat. I just wanted to come in and say how much you amaze me. We’ve had similar paths, you and I. Not the same by any means, but every once in awhile, these parallel paths we walk seem to have a clearing where we can see one another along the way. I can’t tell you how much your experiences have helped me heal. While I don’t think I’ll ever understand why these particular paths have been laid out before us, I feel both greatful to have such a deep person to share with, and saddened that your experiences have also lead to such deep pain. Please keep writing, keep sharing.
Kirsten,
Your comment took my breath away. I have been infertile, and I have lost a child, and I have heard people say God must have had a plan.
Thank you. I’d love to post it on my blog, but I can’t find any contact info for you. . .
Natalie, I think I kind of fall where you do on the religion thing. I also appreciate people sharing what has comforted them (even through faith), but not preaching to me. This is why we asked specifically for no pastoral care in the hospital, and why the spiritual care team’s letter to me got my back up.
I had heard of people saying the “god has a plan” thing, but had been lucky enough not to experience it first hand. (Until after I lost my sons, by a 40-year woman who was 39 weeks pregnant. With an oops baby. It was amazing how incredibly painful it was to hear, that somehow I didn’t deserve a child, but she did. Searing pain.)
Thank you for sharing this.
Sorry I’m very late to this post and debate (terrible month for blogging, April), but I love, love, love this post. You’re very brave to write it out (even though you may not think so), and you did so very articulately and carefully. You also handled the above so well! (Nothing like being told your comments that you’re going to hell. nice.) I’m atheist myself, and see a lot of me in this post. I guess I’m not exactly angry or bewildered when I hear other people say things like “my baby’s with Jesus,” because *they* believe that. And who am I to question what they believe? If that helps them through the day, good for them. There have been times actually that I wondered if a religious framework would’ve helped me through my grief, since every major religion has something to say about dying, and some ritual around death. But I’ve generally found, especially at my IRL support group (which was dominated by catholics) that the death of a child tends to lie outside ANY framework life has to offer. It’s difficult, regardless. And no religion that I know of has been spared the pain and loss. Thanks for writing this!
Hugs Nat
I am a Christian (this is not to you Nat, but some of the other commenters). I am infertile. I do not believe that it is God’s grand plan. I think it just is what it is, and it sucks. I don’t believe that it was God’s plan for Devin to die either. It just sucked. Saying that or anything close to the “grand plan”, “God’s plan” or “Devin is with God” is insulting to Natalie, whether or not it’s true. In fact, it’s annoying and kind of mean, which makes it not very Christian, I don’t. The point is that Natalie doesn’t believe it’s true, so it’s not to her.think.
This is not The 700 Club for everyone to call in and profess their faith to Natalie. This is her blog to discuss her feelings and to work through her life and her grief. If you want to profess your faith, go to church.
I’m sorry Natalie, I know you’re a grown woman who can handle yourself, but some of these comments just pissed me off and I wanted to say something.
You described a lot of my ambivalence very well.
I struggle with what Faith is all the time. I find myself believing there’s a higher power, but then being terrified that there isn’t. Even if there IS a higher power though, I do NOT believe in fate or that that higher power rules each and every thing we do and what happens to each and every one of us individually. I mean.. come on. Maybe that higher power would orchestrate the world’s leanings and flows, but our brief lives would be such tiny blips… billions of tiny blips that they’d be but a blink in that great movement. Know what I mean?
xo
B
Nat, I am very late to this but just wanted to say that I deeply respect you for the ability to express your thoughts in such a meaningful way. This post and your subsequent post about your right to express your thoughts and how completely and totally RUDE it is of the few posters on here to push their views onto you, were just brilliantly written. I wholeheartedly agree on every single point- but most of all on your point of how completely RUDE and insensitive and frankly totally offensive it is for people to try to push their religious views on to you. I am offended for you and angered on your behalf that people would have the audacity to make such comments on your blog!
I hope you find peace with your loss- my brother lost his daughter at 41wk to stillbirth and I saw firsthand what the loss of my niece did to them. But like you, they have found incredible reserves of strength and have made it through. You are too, and will continue to do so. I just hope the journey through this will be as easy on you as possible.