It could be the exhaustion or maybe I just want you to be the person I pity, but tonight I am going to do something I have never done before, and share an excerpt of what recently ran through my brain and onto paper.
My journey to motherhood has been anything but expected, it has been beautiful and heartbreaking. I am now a mama to two angel babies. I believe they are at God's feet and await Chris and I's arrival. There's not a single day that goes by that I don't think about them or miss them.
Finding out I was pregnant, on both occasions, were two of the happiest days of my life thus far. Sadly, they were followed with some of the hardest days.
Motherhood is what I am meant to do. After my heart-wrenching losses, I proceeded with surgery to remove two polyps and a mass that was basically the size of my uterus. I spent the last three months healing on doctors orders and I am finally approaching the dreadful, "TTC" state. After losing my first baby, it took me 18 psychotic-months to get pregnant.
The desire to be a mommy consumed me. Every pregnancy announcement ripped open a slowly healing wound. To put it simply, I was miserable. I believe that misery came from anger--anger with God. Why was I not able to have a baby?
I am happy to report, I snapped out of it. I mean... I stopped being angry with God and began relying on Him. Novel idea, right?
I wish I could say that while I stopped being angry, I also overcame my sadness. But there are still moments of utter dispear. Moments where I ugly-cry and read my journal to my babies (I feel close to them there).
Healing is still happening but so is hoping.
It's no surprise that this was my latest journal entry, my thoughts are often stuck on the topic of motherhood.