Finding beauty in everything is hard. To be honest, the world of child loss challenges you everyday to find it.
I’ve found that throughout my life,
And I’ve also had to learn to let go.
My biological father and my mother were very young when I was born.
I never got the luxury of seeing my dad daily, yet alone knowing what his name was.
I never knew what it meant to have him tell me that I was beautiful or that I had his eyes, or his smile.
I didn’t meet him until my own daughter was two years old and I started getting concerned about genetics. What diseases I would inherit from my paternal side.
But still, I never got the father/daughter dance or to talk about who my daddy was at school.
I had to Let go.
When I was 5 years old, I was adopted by my younger brothers dad.
He was in my life until my teenage years. When he met his new wife and I didn’t fit into their fairytale life, I was voted off the island.
He now has two other children, a girl and a boy.
But- We reconnected years later and I had hope that he would still be able to still walk me down the isle.
Until he didn’t show up on my wedding day.
One of the biggest days of a woman’s life.
Letting go..
And then,
My sweet boy.
My hardest goodbye.
The day I breathed my breath into your lungs and scurried to muster any strength that I had left to face the fact that I couldn’t help you.
I couldn’t save you.
I couldn’t bring you back.
And my mind wanders to September 2015 all the time.
My mother and third stepdad are currently together.
And I don’t speak to either of them. At first they were a source of comfort for me after my son died. But then my stepfather became very coarse. “You need to think of other things besides Bo. You have a house, a car, your other kids” —— “my mom passed away I know how you’re feeling”——
Being who I am, I would never make my mother choose. So I chose, To let go.
And here I am. Here I sit. Alone. With no one but you, reading my empty words on this screen.
Going through the last number of days, Months, Years all in my mind.
My best friend, who I thought of as family, left.
Someone that I often found comfort in.
Someone I trusted and let in. Someone who I would so often cry to and lean on.
Someone I loved and depended on. Someone who I thought believed in talking things out. Just up and walks away.
Something that isn’t at all foreign to me. In fact, I expect it from lots of people.
This does not mean that it still doesn’t hurt. In fact, it bleeds.
Letting go sucks.
It hurts.
It hurts bad.
Nursing tender
And deep inflicted
wounds are a
very real thing.
It’s time consuming.
Energy wasting.
And hard work.
But I am worth it.
You are worth it.
These trials are built to make us all better people.
Not bitter people.
I’m learning even now,
I’m still learning,
Every day.
To continue letting go.
Letting go of pain.
Letting go of anger.
Letting go of trauma.
Because I’m a warrior mom.
And that’s what I do.
That’s who I am.
Finding beauty in the storm.
To these people,
you know who you are,
I’m hard to love.
Some people are built
For it. And some people
Aren’t.
My hope is to find other people along my path that can handle my boldness. My strength.
And when I stumble- because I will- let it not be a burden. Let it not be a problem. Let it be known that you are here. For me. With me. That we can get through this together.
