The last few weeks have left me breathless. I have hardly had time to sit at my computer (thank goodness for pre-scheduled posts!) and I am so sorry to my friends who have commented and have been left rudely ignored! I am reading them and loving you for taking the time to make such sweet and thoughtful comments!
But I am tired…
And I am sad.
I am breathless from grief.
It hit me the other day when Tiny, Jelly Bean and I were at the March for Babies kick off for the Publix team captains for the state. They came together to get fired up to hopefully raise another $300,000 for the March for Babies like they did last year in SC. And for the first time in a long time, as I told our story, I teared up. For the first time in a very long time I felt really sorry for myself.
I thought how unfair it was that we were there. That this is our story. Although it has been an honor to be the Ambassador family, I would trade it in a heartbeat to have that beautiful baby back in my arms.
My story right now SHOULD be about how absolutely crazy I am because I have four children under five (now six!) Two teething one year olds and a crazy 3 year old making me absolutely certifiable all day long every day.
My story should be about how hard it is for me to go anywhere with two babies and how much diapers cost x2. I want to post those silly ecards on my facebook that say “Stay Calm, It’s Only Twins” or whatever else. I want to be blogging about life with multiples.
But that’s not my story. And that really pisses me off.
I have tried so hard to get above it. To turn it off. To pretend like I’m ok. Society tells me I should be. Most of the time I think I am. Until those moments that I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me.
It can come from anywhere or no where.
The grief is blinding. And the tears just come.
In those moments I wish I could lie in my bed for days. But I can’t. Little people need me.
Thankfully, three beautiful little people need me.
May 5th is International Bereaved Mothers Day. If you know someone who has lost a baby or a child, whether it be 5 days ago or 55 years ago, maybe take a moment to let her know that you know they hurt. Remember their child.
And if you don’t know anyone else, you know me.
You can whisper her name.
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