They say that borrowed means you have to give it back. We don't have to give the moments and memories back, but our children were never ours to keep.
I envy their father. I envy the fun he gets that I don't usually get to have. I envy the front-lines because like many of us, I'm in the background doing anything but "fun."
Don't tell me not to be sad. Tell me it's okay to be human, because humans get sad.
I have to see their face. That’s where the truth lies. It’s beneath what others don’t see, so I search like an investigator of emotion I refuse to miscalculate.
Just before or no soon after I want to call a truce or hire the closest stranger off the street to get some respite, they do something to turn things around.
Losing a baby brought sadness and grief. It made me question faith and motherhood for me. Then against all odds came a boy who knew a family was about to grow...
My heart didn't feel whole and I don't mean it in the way of complacency, contentment or emptiness. I knew a spirit was intended to find me and join our family.
I have this thing with my rear-view mirror. It’s a really good babysitter, but I actually use it to catch glimpses of their faces when they don’t think I’m watching. There he was.
While I'd spend weeks planning, hours detailing and mornings anxious about how to "make it all happen," I found myself relying on the lens of my camera to capture what the anxiety inside of me couldn't be present for.
I sat on the couch with Benny after being released from the hospital. He was wrapped in my arms awaiting his brother and sister’s return home from Nana and Papa’s at the door.