My grandma sent me an email today with the subject line “U R AN AWESOME MOM”. (Curiously, she skipped sending this to one of her own daughters or to any of her grandchildren who actually ARE mothers.)
The text:
Awesome Mom
Before I was a Mom,
I never tripped over toys
or forgot words to a lullaby.
I didn’t worry whether or not
my plants were poisonous.
I never thought about immunizations.Before I was a Mom,
I had never been puked on.
Pooped on.
Chewed on.
Peed on.
I had complete control of my mind
and my thoughts.
I slept all night.Before I was a Mom,
I never held down a screaming child
so doctors could do tests.
Or give shots.
I never looked into teary eyes and cried.
I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin.
I never sat up late hours at night
watching a baby sleep.Before I was a Mom,
I never held a sleeping baby just because
I didn’t want to put her down.
I never felt my heart break into a million pieces
when I couldn’t stop the hurt.
I never knew that something so small
could affect my life so much.
I never knew that I could love someone so much.
I never knew I would love being a Mom.Before I was a Mom,
I didn’t know the feeling of
having my heart outside my body.
I didn’t know how special it could feel
to feed a hungry baby.
I didn’t know that bond
between a mother and her child.
I didn’t know that something so small
could make me feel so important and happy.Before I was a Mom,
I had never gotten up in the middle of the night
every 10 minutes to make sure all was okay.
I had never known the warmth,
the joy,
the love,
the heartache,
the wonderment
or the satisfaction of being a Mom.
I didn’t know I was capable of feeling so much,
before I was a MomSend this to someone who you think is an awesome Mom.
I got indignant and composed a reply. I didn’t send it, because, well, wouldn’t that just positively ruin the Easter festivities? But I did want to share it with someone, so here goes:
Grieving Not-a-Mom
Before I had multiple miscarriages,
I never cried when people I loved announced their pregnancies
or complained about their kids.
I didn’t worry whether or not
I’d ever have children.
I never thought about the possibility that I might only ever be a mother to dead children.Before I had multiple miscarriages,
I thought pregnancy equaled a baby.
Late nights.
Teething.
Expenses.
I thought I had complete control of my emotions
and my reproductive future.
I slept peacefully.Before I had multiple miscarriages,
I never had the skin on my arm fall off
because of a RhoGAM shot.
Or not cared about that
because what does my discomfort matter
when my body failed my baby?
I never sat up late hours at night
crying hysterically.Before I had multiple miscarriages,
I never spent all night reading medical journals
hoping there was something I could do to prevent it happening again.
I never felt my heart break into a million pieces
when I got a particularly insensitive email.
I never knew that something as small as an embryo’s passing
could hurt so dreadfully.
I never knew that I could cry so hard for so long.
I never knew I could hurt this much without breaking.Before I had multiple miscarriages,
I didn’t know that the “birth” dates and due dates of my kids
would be occasions for sorrow.
I didn’t know what a miracle
human reproduction really is.
I didn’t know that it’s so easy
to say you cried yourself to sleep, and
I didn’t know that it’s so hard
to actually do.Before I had multiple miscarriages,
I had never sobbed upon seeing my own positive pregnancy test
out of fear of losing another child.
I had never known the sting,
the sorrow,
the misery,
the mourning,
the despair,
or the depression of not being a Mom.
I didn’t know I was capable of feeling so bitter
before I lost my babies.Don’t send this to anybody. Nobody should have to experience this.
1 comment:
very on point. thank you for sharing it : )
Mo
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