Today's blog post was originally posted by Anna @letterstolillian. She has so generously shared her story about her journey to motherhood.
This is my motherhood. Crying in the car because I saw a little girl who looked to be her age. Telling my husband for the millionth time that I don’t think I can do this. Holding her urn and realizing it’s the closest I’ll ever be to embracing her again in this lifetime. Feeling as though I am both living and dying at the same time. Trying to remember what life was like before she died, without the weight of grief bearing down.
This is my motherhood. Fending off the “boy mom” comments, and trying my hardest to include her in everything our family does. Reminding myself that she existed for 246 beautiful days, even though she seems invisible to the rest of the world. Fighting back tears when people say, “That’s too depressing, let’s talk about something else,” (the “that” they refer to, is my daughter). Learning that there are many who will turn around and walk away when I speak about her, and even more who will never understand the magnitude of her life and death.
This is my motherhood. It is complex, and confusing, but filled with untold beauty. My days are a mix of joy and pain, and living at two extremes simultaneously is exhausting. I’m trying to walk through it with grace, though I often stumble and take missteps. I’m learning to love myself again, even if the reflection in the mirror looks so very different than it did before. My heart is broken, but beating; overflowing, but forever empty. I embrace what each day brings, be it grief, agony, heartache, happiness, trials, or truths. While these may ebb and flow, there is one constant: love. It is in this love that I find hope. How wonderful it is to know a love like this.
I am the mother of 4 babies who died before they even had names.
I am Jack’s mom.
I am Lillian’s mom.
I am Lawrence’s mom.
This is my motherhood. What’s yours?