One waiting for pregnancy.
One grieving a baby lost in miscarriage.
One in the NICU with Clive.
One grieving Clive and growing Winnie.
One grieving Clive and Winnie and awaiting adoption.
And this one, missing Clive and Winnie deeply, holding Coralie, and thinking of my unique version of motherhood.
I have children in heaven and one in my home. I have a baby that I just rocked to sleep that has another mama out there missing her and full of love for her. A mama who bravely chose me to be her daughter’s mom. I do not forget this. I have a desire for more kids, and an uncertainty of what the future will look like. I have birthed, pumped, buried, held hands, changed diapers, rocked, brought home, visited at the cemetery. I have written cards and made gifts my mom, my mother in law, and Corrie’s birthmama. I am grateful, and sorrowful. The bitter parts have given me more gratitude for the sweet parts.
I have eyes wide open to the unique motherhood around me, giving me gratitude for the blessings I have in my motherhood– however hard. I see the overwhelmed moms, the working moms, the single moms, the grieving moms, the empty-armed moms, the foster moms, the moms without moms of their own. I see the women who are not-yet mamas (or maybe will never be moms by our definition), but have a caring mom-heart for so many others in their lives while they wait for their story to unfold. So many different paths and journeys and forms. So many hardships, and still so much beauty to behold.