The First Time
From the moment I saw the sonogram, I was weak inside.
This beautiful unborn was growing in my womb. I began to panic. I began to question whether I was prepared to face any challenges.
Weeks later I learned beautiful unborn was no longer viable.
It was a pain that snuffed the air out of my lungs.
Mother no more.
Then you get the looks, the sympathy, the empathy and in the midst of the fog you hear this startling statistic:
1 in 4 births result in a miscarriage.
I remembered taking a hiatus from trying to have more children for fear of having a repeat experience.
I memorialized my beautiful unborn and to this day count him or her as part of my family.
Why Start Like This?
Because today I wanted to remember a sweet woman who may be wrestling with the grief of having lost their beautiful unborn.
To you, I say that motherhood is not defined entirely by having the physical evidence in your arms, in a stroller or walking to school. You are a mother even though your beautiful unborn was not able to gaze upon your sweet face.
From one who knows the pain and anguish of that first Mother’s Day almost 18 years ago….
You are beautiful. You are loved.
P.S. For you dear Moms whose arms are aching to hold your babies taken from you either by natural or violent means, this Mom is lifting you up in her heart and in her prayers. Love you sister!