This year, Ben is two years old and thriving with his parents. He has new baby brother, Nathan, and is still obsessed with his daddy. On the outside, the look like the typical, perfect American Family. Except, I know their struggles. I know how hard mother's day was on her for the years before Ben came into her life. I was told of how how he always gave her something special on mother's day. Out of empathy or grief or maybe it was just desperate hope.
Because if you aren't a mother, but you want to be, it's a day of torture. Everything is a reminder of your body's failure, or the failure of keeping bad family/boyfriend's opinions out of your decision making; or it's God making a mockery of your deepest desperation.
Because I have two children and nothing to show for it. My sweet baby Ben is 200 miles away from my grasp, my heart, my hugs and my undying love. My silent pleading with God for the past two and a half years has gone completely unanswered, except to hurt me further. And my baby Houston is even further away, safe in heaven instead of in my belly.
Two babies lost before I'm even 21. Is anyone else shaking their heads, completely dumbfounded by God/Karma/Life's lack of empathy? THROW ME A FREAKING BONE.
Last year, I was able to eat with my best friend at her favorite restaurant where she surprised me with tulips and a heart felt card filled with love and empathy. That day is the day I decided that I needed to stay in Seattle, and not move to Arizona quite yet; three months later I met my husband and started to find happiness. But the sting of should-be-motherhood quenches even that.
Please, hold your babies tighter for me.
And if you feel like crying: https://www.facebook.com/today/videos/10154664613372984/
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| This was my test and first picture of my would've-been-bump for baby houston. I would've know the gender by now. I lost him at 6 weeks gestation, shortly after these were taken. |
