A sense of grace today
I see your face
Hear your laugh
My heart aches.
So why don’t I feel the peace of the forgiven?
Some rest for a weary mother – a mother’s heart wrenched from the womb – my passion has been burned up with my child. And I feel alone.
As her mother…
I was alone after she was born. She was 6 weeks premature in 1988 and whisked off to the NICU with her father by her side while I was left to be stitched up after an emergency c-section. I was scared and tired and so young at 19. I felt an overwhelming sense of failure at my child being born by c-section; that I was somehow less of a mother because I didn’t “deliver” my child into this world; no, she was “taken” from me and I had failed my first test as a mother. To carry and deliver my child safely into our world. And how do I care for this absolutely tiny child? Leaving the hospital with a 4-pound, 9-ounce, 18.5-inch, 34-week gestation daughter…and I never even got to finish those Lamaze classes because I started experiencing pre-term labor at 32 weeks and got stuck on bed rest for 2 weeks before she decided it was time to make her arrival. And it all felt that rushed, that fast, so overwhelming and how is it 2021, almost 33 years later and my daughter has been dead for 19 months.
I can’t get a full breath and here come the tears…today is the 19th.