This past week, I dropped off loads and loads of things. Things kept in boxes and duffel bags for the past three years.
The things that I was gripping onto so tightly, in fear that's what I needed. Six copies of Ellery's memorial service on DVD, two swimsuits she never wore, a baby blanket that never touched her, stuffed animals she never played with.
The things that I thought would keep me close to my daughter, but were really just gathering dust in my closet.
I had the unique experience of being 28 and coming face to face with realizing what exactly you get to take with you when you die, which, spoiler alert, is nothing and also our current mortality rate, which seems to still be peaking at 100%. After Jim died, I was so overwhelmed, we like most families, had accumulated a four bedroom house full of stuff and he loved his things.
I was faced with going through box after box, drawer after drawer, pile after pile. Sorting, surrounded by the things that couldn't save him and empty tokens of a life that far surpassed his mass of things. A job most people go through for the first time when sorting through their parents things.
The feeling of overwhelm, of anxiety, of being frozen to the spot, I believe this is linked to holding onto our possessions far beyond when they serve us.
Every moment is lived once. There are so many moments I would love to live again but it's not the case and no amount of mementos or snapshots or baby booties can bring me back to them. We take these possessions with us as if they are time travelers, able to convey us back to the moment at will but it's all a falsehood.
I believe in confronting our physical things, we confront our emotional beings, the hurt, the trauma, the past. Hurt for a while, is like a wet blanket. It's not comfortable, but it seems better than nothing. Eventually though, it starts to feel itchy, uncomfortable, we wonder what a life without it would be like but are too scared to part with it.
We stockpile and we hoard, we can't imagine without so we never go without. We buy in bulk, we take two handfuls when one would do.
I'm linked to my daughter because I'm linked to her through energy and connection that I'll never be able to understand. I'm linked to her because I have faith that we will be together again, I'm linked to her because she was made in me, I gave her life. The sad pile of things though? The items I bought over and over again, thinking they would give me a greater connection to her? Those were robbing me of space, space to move on, to heal.
The truth is, immediately following I felt great. I was glad to know that another baby would be using those items I had picked out with such care. And then I've kind of crashed. I am struggling, sad and upset. Did I push too fast? Did I get rid of too much? Did I pull the bandaid off before I was ready?
No, but I made space, space in my heart and in my life. I was immediately faced with a fight to fill that space. I think the devil is trying to fill that space with doubt and disappointment and fatigue, but it's mean to be filled with contentment and grace and love. But damn is it a hard fight.
James 1:17 Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.
Ephesians 6:12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.
Wednesday, January 16, 2019
when 2016 hit me, i knew what was going to happen after that. and it's interesting, as we enter 2019 to sit back and share this, what has made me the most vulnerable.
more vulnerable than losing my child and my husband was that in the aftermath, i felt it had been wasted.
after it all happened, i spent the next year making plans, plans about how it wasn't going to break me, plans on how to share my story, plans on breaking silence and stigma, building a successful career out of hardship, using my story to provide for my children, being an entrepreneur.
and then, on the very last day of 2016, 9 months since i lost my husband, i wrote in my journal that i wanted to find love in the next year.
my steps since then have been so different than what i thought. i suddenly found myself in a very serious relationship and 6 months after that, found out i was expecting. Christian and i are about to celebrate our two year (dating anniversary) next month and in that year we have, moved in together, bought a house together, gone through pregnancy, had a baby, and gotten married.
and through all of those amazing steps, i wondered why i'm not speaking, why i'm not writing my book, why is my story being wasted.
since the new year started, i have had powerful lies revealed in my life. lies that i believed the narrative of without questioning.
that the pain was all a waste
that i am squandering my time
that i was meant to do something different
in all honesty, i was having a hard time being content in this season. because as unexpected as those losses were, the follow up steps have been JUST AS UNEXPECTED. and that is the crux of it all, that we as humans, can get knocked completely on our asses and still get up and feel that we can figure it out.
but i cannot figure it out. i cannot figure out why so many of my dreams have been put on hold. and to be honest, i am done trying. and so i sit, i sit in my season. today i wrote these truths on the mirror
"God has equipped me"
"my children are my ministry"
"the power within me is greater than the forces outside of me"
I have been devouring Bible verses about self-talk, about fixing our thoughts, focusing on what is joyful and mindful. I am striving to hold every thought captive and make it obedient to Christ. I have written my reminders everywhere, reciting them as often as I can. First thing in the morning, last thing at night.
I am done with the lies about myself and my story. I am done with striving to make the pain have a purpose.
Because that energy? that energy could be put to my babies, to my partner, to myself. To joy, to laughter, to contentment. I am content in my season.
more vulnerable than losing my child and my husband was that in the aftermath, i felt it had been wasted.
after it all happened, i spent the next year making plans, plans about how it wasn't going to break me, plans on how to share my story, plans on breaking silence and stigma, building a successful career out of hardship, using my story to provide for my children, being an entrepreneur.
and then, on the very last day of 2016, 9 months since i lost my husband, i wrote in my journal that i wanted to find love in the next year.
my steps since then have been so different than what i thought. i suddenly found myself in a very serious relationship and 6 months after that, found out i was expecting. Christian and i are about to celebrate our two year (dating anniversary) next month and in that year we have, moved in together, bought a house together, gone through pregnancy, had a baby, and gotten married.
and through all of those amazing steps, i wondered why i'm not speaking, why i'm not writing my book, why is my story being wasted.
since the new year started, i have had powerful lies revealed in my life. lies that i believed the narrative of without questioning.
that the pain was all a waste
that i am squandering my time
that i was meant to do something different
in all honesty, i was having a hard time being content in this season. because as unexpected as those losses were, the follow up steps have been JUST AS UNEXPECTED. and that is the crux of it all, that we as humans, can get knocked completely on our asses and still get up and feel that we can figure it out.
but i cannot figure it out. i cannot figure out why so many of my dreams have been put on hold. and to be honest, i am done trying. and so i sit, i sit in my season. today i wrote these truths on the mirror
"God has equipped me"
"my children are my ministry"
"the power within me is greater than the forces outside of me"
I have been devouring Bible verses about self-talk, about fixing our thoughts, focusing on what is joyful and mindful. I am striving to hold every thought captive and make it obedient to Christ. I have written my reminders everywhere, reciting them as often as I can. First thing in the morning, last thing at night.
I am done with the lies about myself and my story. I am done with striving to make the pain have a purpose.
Because that energy? that energy could be put to my babies, to my partner, to myself. To joy, to laughter, to contentment. I am content in my season.
failing.
Thursday, January 3, 2019
its 2019. and i, always a resolutionist, have scoured and wracked my brain for what i want. what i want to do, to accomplish, to be this year. and to be honest, i haven't come up with much yet.
1. run our local towns race in June
2. a night away with Christian (havent done this yet in our two years of being together)
3. slow down
and maybe that's why i haven't tacked things on, maybe i don't want to look at a long list of things i didn't accomplish or didn't get to, things i failed at again.
i'm on a break from instagram. i am terrible with instagram, for some reason i can see past so many social media platforms- i don't use snapchat anymore, facebook is a rarity, but man that instagram gets me.
the beauty, the hilarity, the poignant. it's all there. inspiration and life tips, cardi b, it's all so accessible. and i spent a lot of time on it.
then christmas season started. and my feed was suddenly 50 trees all lit with garlands, families posing and smiling, and so in a moment of "if i see one more freaking gingerbread house before christmas comes, i will lose it! NO ONE EVEN LIKES MAKING GINGERBREAD HOUSES AND THEY TASTE LIKE TRASH" i deleted the app and it's not reinstalled yet. although in all honesty, i hopped on after christmas via safari and scrolled, caught up on kulture, you know the important things.
but my break from instagram went deeper than just a break from other peoples highlight reels. because something embarrassing happened when we moved into this house and i have just realized it in the past month or so.
when we moved, i paid for our bedroom walls to be painted white, because everyone i follow on instagram had white walls and they are the BEST, right boo? the best, so clean and pristine.
guys - i hate my white walls. hate them. i can't rest, they feel sterile, like my eyes are constantly bouncing because it's so reflective. and because i have lofted ceilings, it's not really like a paint it yourself kind of deal. so here i am 31 years old and painting my house to be like someone else, to emulate someone else. and that's embarrassing, and messed up.
and i need a break, i need to know who i am, at my core. without the distraction of looking at everyone else's capsule wardrobe, toddler meals, wall colors (LOL), book list to read.
what does bria weigle barber want? because somewhere along the way in this journey, i started censoring myself again. i came out of my pain a little bit and honestly, just desperately wanted to return to normal. i wanted to be normal. i let what i think other people think about me LIMIT my own actions.
are you getting that? i let what i think other people think limit me. i spend more time thinking about what other people will think about what i post, like, follow, or write than i do actually posting, liking, following, or writing.
i didn't want to be the girl whose first husband passed away from suicide. i didn't want to be the girl whose ex-father in law writes her emails about how her children suffer under her care. i didn't want to live all these uncomfortable and painful truths that somehow i found myself living. i didn't want to be the prodigal girl that returned to the church. i didn't want to be the girl that still drinks to much even though she always regrets it. i didn't want to be the girl who hasn't seen half her family for most of her life, whose mom passed away, the girl who felt unlovable, who still feels that way, the girl who wished not to be here, the girl who sometimes feels like she can't move because of depression.
who i don't want to be can go on and on. but i have to own my truth. and for whatever reason (i like to think it's because God works through suffering and he is going to work through me) this is my story.
pain is still pain, and sometimes when it becomes manageable pain. when you aren't drowning in pain, it becomes easier to stifle, to ignore, to pretend. in the beginning, i had no choice but to be raw, to be vulnerable, to be real. and sometimes when you have been in really deep pain, going back into it seems scary, like there is anything else i would rather do than sit in my pain and be okay with it and then come tell you about sitting in it via blog and public platform where people can pick it apart and ask me questions about it.
and so this is my resolution. in 2019, i'm not going to be afraid of pain. i'm not going to limit myself by what i think others will think (that phrase gets me every time), i'm going to hit publish on my raw and on my real, and i am going to stay the fuck off instagram.
here's to 2019!
1. run our local towns race in June
2. a night away with Christian (havent done this yet in our two years of being together)
3. slow down
and maybe that's why i haven't tacked things on, maybe i don't want to look at a long list of things i didn't accomplish or didn't get to, things i failed at again.
i'm on a break from instagram. i am terrible with instagram, for some reason i can see past so many social media platforms- i don't use snapchat anymore, facebook is a rarity, but man that instagram gets me.
the beauty, the hilarity, the poignant. it's all there. inspiration and life tips, cardi b, it's all so accessible. and i spent a lot of time on it.
then christmas season started. and my feed was suddenly 50 trees all lit with garlands, families posing and smiling, and so in a moment of "if i see one more freaking gingerbread house before christmas comes, i will lose it! NO ONE EVEN LIKES MAKING GINGERBREAD HOUSES AND THEY TASTE LIKE TRASH" i deleted the app and it's not reinstalled yet. although in all honesty, i hopped on after christmas via safari and scrolled, caught up on kulture, you know the important things.
but my break from instagram went deeper than just a break from other peoples highlight reels. because something embarrassing happened when we moved into this house and i have just realized it in the past month or so.
when we moved, i paid for our bedroom walls to be painted white, because everyone i follow on instagram had white walls and they are the BEST, right boo? the best, so clean and pristine.
guys - i hate my white walls. hate them. i can't rest, they feel sterile, like my eyes are constantly bouncing because it's so reflective. and because i have lofted ceilings, it's not really like a paint it yourself kind of deal. so here i am 31 years old and painting my house to be like someone else, to emulate someone else. and that's embarrassing, and messed up.
and i need a break, i need to know who i am, at my core. without the distraction of looking at everyone else's capsule wardrobe, toddler meals, wall colors (LOL), book list to read.
what does bria weigle barber want? because somewhere along the way in this journey, i started censoring myself again. i came out of my pain a little bit and honestly, just desperately wanted to return to normal. i wanted to be normal. i let what i think other people think about me LIMIT my own actions.
are you getting that? i let what i think other people think limit me. i spend more time thinking about what other people will think about what i post, like, follow, or write than i do actually posting, liking, following, or writing.
i didn't want to be the girl whose first husband passed away from suicide. i didn't want to be the girl whose ex-father in law writes her emails about how her children suffer under her care. i didn't want to live all these uncomfortable and painful truths that somehow i found myself living. i didn't want to be the prodigal girl that returned to the church. i didn't want to be the girl that still drinks to much even though she always regrets it. i didn't want to be the girl who hasn't seen half her family for most of her life, whose mom passed away, the girl who felt unlovable, who still feels that way, the girl who wished not to be here, the girl who sometimes feels like she can't move because of depression.
who i don't want to be can go on and on. but i have to own my truth. and for whatever reason (i like to think it's because God works through suffering and he is going to work through me) this is my story.
pain is still pain, and sometimes when it becomes manageable pain. when you aren't drowning in pain, it becomes easier to stifle, to ignore, to pretend. in the beginning, i had no choice but to be raw, to be vulnerable, to be real. and sometimes when you have been in really deep pain, going back into it seems scary, like there is anything else i would rather do than sit in my pain and be okay with it and then come tell you about sitting in it via blog and public platform where people can pick it apart and ask me questions about it.
and so this is my resolution. in 2019, i'm not going to be afraid of pain. i'm not going to limit myself by what i think others will think (that phrase gets me every time), i'm going to hit publish on my raw and on my real, and i am going to stay the fuck off instagram.
here's to 2019!
six.
Sunday, October 7, 2018
six years ago you were placed in my arms. all 4lbs15oz of you, tiny and perfect. a culmination of love.
six years ago, it seems like we have lived a lifetime together in those six years. four houses, two states, three schools, three siblings, two dads. it's been a ride.
but i want to tell you about what i am thankful for addy, because most of all- i am thankful for you. you, who being the spitting image of me is constantly causing me to grow.
you whose heart is sensitive and caring.
you whose aptitude for language and reading is beyond her years.
you whose joy and infectious laugh brings a light to every day.
you whose generous spirit does its best to make everyone feel included.
you whose unique sense of identity shines through in her ever changing hairstyles.
you whose developing determination is proving how well you can stick with something.
i love you.
i promise to do my best.
happy happy birthday sweet girl!!!
i love you,
mommy
six years ago, it seems like we have lived a lifetime together in those six years. four houses, two states, three schools, three siblings, two dads. it's been a ride.
but i want to tell you about what i am thankful for addy, because most of all- i am thankful for you. you, who being the spitting image of me is constantly causing me to grow.
you whose heart is sensitive and caring.
you whose aptitude for language and reading is beyond her years.
you whose joy and infectious laugh brings a light to every day.
you whose generous spirit does its best to make everyone feel included.
you whose unique sense of identity shines through in her ever changing hairstyles.
you whose developing determination is proving how well you can stick with something.
i love you.
i promise to do my best.
happy happy birthday sweet girl!!!
i love you,
mommy
Praise Him for He is good, His love endures forever
Sunday, July 29, 2018
there were so many sundays that i sat in church and heard about how God will bring us through the darkest of times.
there were so many moments that i was out figuratively in the wilderness, wondering if and when i would break through to the other side.
i would sit and believe in my heart that the dead would raise and that life would come back but never in a million years did i think it would be quite like this.
that i would know the joy of sitting in a church service and listening to a sermon "life conquers death" and hear "all suffering is temporary" and know in my heart that i had been delivered successfully out of my suffering.
two years ago i typed: never in my life has the gospel made so much and so little sense to me
and now two years later i am a living manifestation of the gospel of the love of God. a God who saw me in a very, very dark place and chose to let me continue to a place with no hope to display His hope to me. a God who in His MERCY allowed me to suffer that I might know the full and deep joy that comes after when one chooses to follow Him.
I can't explain it logically to you all, I can't give an algorithm as to why it's true. I know only the eternal hope that lives in my heart. I know the beating heart that transplanted the heart of stone that existed before. I know the grace and mercy that follow me in each and every interaction with my children.
and ya'll, for the first time in my life, I get the joy. I understand and feel the true JOY that comes from Him.
May this day stand as a testament to future days when I don't feel it. May this stone never cease to worship the consistency and faithfulness of our Father in Heaven. and may my Hope in Him be ever on display. For I have been delivered out of a pit of despair and now sit in a valley of peace.
there were so many moments that i was out figuratively in the wilderness, wondering if and when i would break through to the other side.
i would sit and believe in my heart that the dead would raise and that life would come back but never in a million years did i think it would be quite like this.
that i would know the joy of sitting in a church service and listening to a sermon "life conquers death" and hear "all suffering is temporary" and know in my heart that i had been delivered successfully out of my suffering.
two years ago i typed: never in my life has the gospel made so much and so little sense to me
and now two years later i am a living manifestation of the gospel of the love of God. a God who saw me in a very, very dark place and chose to let me continue to a place with no hope to display His hope to me. a God who in His MERCY allowed me to suffer that I might know the full and deep joy that comes after when one chooses to follow Him.
I can't explain it logically to you all, I can't give an algorithm as to why it's true. I know only the eternal hope that lives in my heart. I know the beating heart that transplanted the heart of stone that existed before. I know the grace and mercy that follow me in each and every interaction with my children.
and ya'll, for the first time in my life, I get the joy. I understand and feel the true JOY that comes from Him.
May this day stand as a testament to future days when I don't feel it. May this stone never cease to worship the consistency and faithfulness of our Father in Heaven. and may my Hope in Him be ever on display. For I have been delivered out of a pit of despair and now sit in a valley of peace.
pregnancy
Friday, March 16, 2018
current morning routine
making breakfast for addy and lane, getting them to school. i usually try to drink a glass of water in this time period and may or may not eat. once they are at school, i usually enjoy the silence for a while, sometimes i journal and fall back asleep, sometimes i use my "computer time" at this point to catch up. my morning are definitely about easing into my day.
how does this pregnancy differ
this has been my hardest pregnancy physically. energy wise i was completely depleted at around 30 weeks and have now stopped working and am still enjoying the benefits of full time childcare until the summer. i never went through pregnancy not working/watching my own children before so that is a lot different. i've completely taken pressure off myself and am resting so much. it's been hard to connect with Christian when all i want to do is crash at 9pm and sleep till the morning. i've definitely had to be gentler with myself so i have energy for kids/man.
cravings
typical, pickles, vinegar, spicy, carbs, ice cream has been a huge one. it's a constant cycle of i'm hungry/i ate too much and have heartburn.
current state of mind
excitement and exhaustion. when the end is in sight it's a very weird threshold to be anticipating. in a couple weeks, i'll be holding a baby again. we'll see the face and how much it looks like or doesn't look like addy/lane.
looking forward to
holding my baby, a beer, walking without waddling, the burst of energy that comes after the initial healing period, not getting heartburn, holding my baby, breweries, fitting into clothes
on being a blended family
this is one of the more unique situations that i think you can experience as a family. obviously with their father being gone i have addy and lane all the time and so we focus a lot of all of us together. it makes it a lot easier in a lot of ways and adds a layer of complexity that most people don't encounter in typical blended situations. so far everyone is super supportive and loving which is great.
2 years
Wednesday, March 7, 2018
hi baby,
when I got home from dropping your siblings off at school today, I went through all the pictures I had of you. From the video of your birth to the fire station, it took me about an hour. There's no one I can look at and say, remember when she was born and we held her? Remember what it was like to look at our daughter for the first time? It feels empty still, not as bad as last year, but empty nonetheless.
Last year I went and had my taxes done on your birthday, something I had been putting off, overwhelmed by, and to be honest, frightened of. This year, my taxes are done already. Who knows, maybe next year I'll do my taxes myself. It has been this weird journey, trying to put myself back together, knowing how fragile I am. Finding pieces of myself that I had forgotten about or didn't know where there.
I don't know if I am quite to celebration yet. It is hard to remember the beautiful moments we had together without looking at the countdown clock in the background. Five weeks is not enough time for moments to slip by or memories be forgotten and then recalled. I remember every moment we had together in visceral detail. Since then I have lived the 5 weeks, 20 times over, apart from you in every second. Since then I have lived details and forgotten them, had beautiful, sweet moments with the kids that have already slipped from my memory because I have the privilege of "more."
I don't try to live our moments together a lot, it hurts too badly, I slip too easily into only remembering that day. Instead I do my best to stay firmly grounded in the present, but it doesn't mean you weren't important to me and it doesn't mean I don't love you. I carry my love for you like the roots in the soil, there are so many beautiful things that remain unseen. That is my love for you. I carry my love for your like the currents deep in the ocean, like the clouds above our vision. That is my love for you.
And so today, Elly, I will make some small goals and accomplish them. I will pick up fresh flowers and put some on my nightstand. I will think of you more often than not and I will look forward to when I get to see you again. Can you believe, we already have two years down? I am counting down the days till I see you baby. It is a long time, longer than most have to wait, but I am excited because I know it will happen. I know you will give me a hug and say you were okay. That you were safe while we were apart. That you knew you had my love when I wasn't there to show it. Ellery, I so badly wish I could celebrate with you today, I so badly wish we were together in person and not just in our hearts. I wish my love for you was shown every day like it is for Addy and Lane.
You are loved sweet girl. Please give your dad and grandma and great grandma a hug and kiss from me and Addy and Lane. We all miss you all so much. I know you will have fun celebrating today.
Till we are together again,
Love,
your mom
when I got home from dropping your siblings off at school today, I went through all the pictures I had of you. From the video of your birth to the fire station, it took me about an hour. There's no one I can look at and say, remember when she was born and we held her? Remember what it was like to look at our daughter for the first time? It feels empty still, not as bad as last year, but empty nonetheless.
Last year I went and had my taxes done on your birthday, something I had been putting off, overwhelmed by, and to be honest, frightened of. This year, my taxes are done already. Who knows, maybe next year I'll do my taxes myself. It has been this weird journey, trying to put myself back together, knowing how fragile I am. Finding pieces of myself that I had forgotten about or didn't know where there.
I don't know if I am quite to celebration yet. It is hard to remember the beautiful moments we had together without looking at the countdown clock in the background. Five weeks is not enough time for moments to slip by or memories be forgotten and then recalled. I remember every moment we had together in visceral detail. Since then I have lived the 5 weeks, 20 times over, apart from you in every second. Since then I have lived details and forgotten them, had beautiful, sweet moments with the kids that have already slipped from my memory because I have the privilege of "more."
I don't try to live our moments together a lot, it hurts too badly, I slip too easily into only remembering that day. Instead I do my best to stay firmly grounded in the present, but it doesn't mean you weren't important to me and it doesn't mean I don't love you. I carry my love for you like the roots in the soil, there are so many beautiful things that remain unseen. That is my love for you. I carry my love for your like the currents deep in the ocean, like the clouds above our vision. That is my love for you.
And so today, Elly, I will make some small goals and accomplish them. I will pick up fresh flowers and put some on my nightstand. I will think of you more often than not and I will look forward to when I get to see you again. Can you believe, we already have two years down? I am counting down the days till I see you baby. It is a long time, longer than most have to wait, but I am excited because I know it will happen. I know you will give me a hug and say you were okay. That you were safe while we were apart. That you knew you had my love when I wasn't there to show it. Ellery, I so badly wish I could celebrate with you today, I so badly wish we were together in person and not just in our hearts. I wish my love for you was shown every day like it is for Addy and Lane.
You are loved sweet girl. Please give your dad and grandma and great grandma a hug and kiss from me and Addy and Lane. We all miss you all so much. I know you will have fun celebrating today.
Till we are together again,
Love,
your mom
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