I have been thinking about Sunday, and in a lot of ways, dreading the day for quit sometime now. Although no one is forcing me to write about the day, I know it's good for me to sit and allow myself to think about it. I have still been, however, avoiding it thus far.
It took a long time for me to acknowledge that I am truly a mother. This Sunday I will grieve the motherhood that I never got a chance to experience with Liam beyond the pregnancy.
I know I am a mother, a mother who lost her baby. Everyone tells me what a great mother I was to Liam and how lucky he was to have me. But I don't feel like it. I go back and forth about feeling guilty for what happened to Liam. That there was something I have done to prevent it or change the outcome. Untimely however, I know that what happened to Liam was out of my control. But it's still hard to think that I was the best mother I could have been too and for Liam when it wasn't enough to save him. I wish I could have done more. In some ways I feel like I failed him. No one is putting that on me, but me. It's just that when I feel like I am the one carrying him and untimely responsible for him then it all falls on me.
Bottom line, when I stare at his picture and think about him so helpless, it breaks my heart that I couldn't have helped him. That he didn't do anything to deserve or warrant this. It breaks my heart for him.
A year ago at this time Brad was on his first civilian deployment, but third overall deployment overseas. I was home in Iowa staying with my parents and Brad sent me a flowers and a mother's day card. I also received one from my parents. It was surreal to read them and think that I was actually going to be a mother. At that time I envisioned my first mother's day as something totally different than how it will really be tomorrow.
I had thought perhaps Brad would have used Liam's little hands and feet to make me a mother's day card that I would stick on the fridge for awhile and then display in a scarp book. That we would dress up and go to church together as a family, get some pictures, and cook out at home or go out to brunch. then spend the day playing and enjoying one another.
That I would be wearing the badge of motherhood proudly. The snot on my shoulder, food in my hair, bags under my eyes. Unfortunately, the only badge of motherhood I wear now are a few unwelcome reminders of delivery, empty arms, and a broken heart.
This Sunday I will be celebrating the amazing mothers in my life, but am so saddened that I do not have my son here to celebrate his mother. It's one of those weird "how did come to this" moments. One of those moments when I really stop to think about how deeply I miss Liam and it washes over me so intensely that suddenly I feel like I am drowning in despair.
This Sunday I plan on staying home with Brad, perhaps never getting out of my pj's and just "being". I don't want to go to church and torture myself with the mother's day sermon. It was hard enough seeing all the families in their cute outfits at Easter. I know it's just a day to focus on mothers and in all other ways it's just another day. So part of me wonders if my dreading the day and how I will feel is all brought on myself. But none the less, it's a day I would be participating in, had Liam been here. But, he is not, and it f****** sucks. So I am going to allow myself a day to just sit and be in the suck. To feel it and try to happy myself up.
Momma loves and misses you dearly Liam!
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