I read a touching post about letting your kids go as they grow up.
Beginning to leave a comment, I tap away at the keys, “my two will start ” and my fingers slow to a stop. My mind has caught up.
The buzz of the day has quieted and I sit with reality.
Milestones are cruel.
In infancy there were so many.
One month ago they were born. Four months ago I held her last. They are rolling, sitting, standing.
I could always find an empty space.
But lately? I have done well.
As we prepare our kids to begin preschool I have kept my eyes on the goal.
I have surveyed schools and worried over transitions.
I have enrolled them in sports and story times, taught them to spell their names and put on their coats.
I haven’t let my heart sit in that place.
That place where all that is, meets all that should be.
That place where I am picking out matching outfits for my girls and hoping I’m not the only one who can tell them apart.
That place where I can’t stay for long; the weight of it slowing my writing hands, saddening my dreaming mind.
Ultimately I am back to where I began, staring at a screen, willing my fingers to finish a sentence.
Yearning to be a normal mom, hide my gaping hole.
“My two will start preschool this fall.”
I put it in writing.
And for some reason,
I am surprised one more time,
at how hard it is to believe my own story.
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Oh, my heart just aches for you. You have so much, yet you are missing one little angel. And those milestones are just as important for those you still hold in your arms.
Wish I could give you a hug….what a wonderful mom you are.
What a beautifully written post. I wish I had some words of encouragement. It definitely puts milestones into perspective.
“milestones are cruel” this truth hurts.
A beautiful and simple post that conveys so much more. I don’t imagine that the hole is actually ever not there, but you do such a good job of living life and writing about it all the same. And it needs to come out sometimes. Love to you.
This is beautifully written. Wishing you all the comfort and joy in the world as you experience these new milestones.
I am so very touched by your words. I have no words of wisdom, but I do have prayers.
PearlsGirl
Coming from Shell’s today and though I don’t know your story (though plan on reading to find out more now!!) this just made me stop and truly reflect on if I am enjoying my kids and my life as much as I should be.
That is a beautiful sentiment, and one that not a lot of people allow themselves to think often enough when they go through tragedy. “how hard it is to believe my own story”…….thank you for putting that thought out there. It really is a good reflective thought.
I cannot wait to read the rest of your blog, this piece was beautifully written!!! with strength and prayers, k
Found you through Shell at Things I Can’t Say. I’m a first time visitor and about to go read more. It sounds like you have a very compelling story to tell.
You always put these moments into words so better than I can even describe.
Most beautiful and quite poetic might I add. From one writer to another, you a magnificent job of putting your thoughts and feelings down and I never know what’s coming next, yet I hang on with every word.
Thank you, I will send my middle child to preschool this next school year and I still can’t believe it either!
As always you provide soul-wrenching words that touch your readers’ so deeply.
My heart aches for you and your family, and it celebrates the moments you have.
The Empress pointed out my exact thoughts – can’t believe your own story. It is yours, and you own it, but that doesn’t make any of it easy.
Your heartfelt writing always touches me beyond measure.
beyond the words, that picture just stopped me in my tracks and my fingers on the keyboard.
you have such a gift of putting our thoughts and emotions into words and giving them back to us. Thank you for sharing this one with us and my heart abides with yours.
I wish I would’ve read this before I saw you today and then given you a big hug. Your strength is nothing short of amazing.
My heart aches now. The picture of the angel shirt brought tears to my eyes.
“Sometimes I can’t believe my own story..” I love you for being able to express yourself with such honesty and pure beauty. xoxo
You are such a strong mama! Such a balance- between remembering and moving on for your kids. ((hugs))
Such a beautiful and moving post. I can’t imagine the pain of losing a little one. I wish it hadn’t happened to you.
Jessica, I love the way you put these MOMENTS into words. x
(((hugs))) (I don’t know what to say, but thank you for sharing your story)
Can’t quite swallow the lump in my throat. Sorry for your horrible loss.
I’m afraid I have no words of comfort to add, but your words stay with me for a very long time. They support me in my effort to be a better mother. If life could only be what it should be.
If you always allowed yourself to “go there” you wouldn’t be able to function. Sadness would take over your entire life. But going there when the memory comes and leaves you sitting still, unable to type a word? That’s healthy. That’s her love. Embrace it.
Once again, I’m humbled by your grace and the strength you share with us. I know I can’t imagine, and the most I can offer is a prayer.
Yes.
This is why I wish you could attend, or be part of Listen To Your Mother Shows.
So many lives, to bear witness to.
You said it perfectly here: “Sometimes, I can’t believe my own story.”
This is just so succinctly it.
We should all be writing it down.
Grief never really leaves. People who say it does are not paying attention
Jessica, I don’t know what to say. I cannot fathom your loss or your life following that loss, though you do an excellent job at putting those feelings into words.
Reading this can bring me right back to the day it all happened…and I wish I could change it for you. I wish it wasn’t a moment that you have to struggle to move on from. I wish it for all of us, and for all the parents who have experienced a loass.
Sorry…loss. If I wasn’t crying I could see what I was typing.
This is so touching, Jessica. I can’t even imagine what it must feel like to be so blessed and so pained all at once. Yours is a remarkable story. And you tell it beautifully.
This is a beautiful piece of writing. So raw and sad but inspirational too. There’s no overcoming the loss you carry, it just is. But your ability to press on is encouraging. Sending hugs your way. xoxo
When my in-laws were here last weekend, they told us how they wanted to take us, the girls, and my step-MIL’s son, wife and daughter to Disney World next year. My niece is exactly 5 months younger than Julia & Gabrielle; only 2 1/2 if you adjust for the girls’ prematurity. I wrote my BIL on Facebook about it, and started to write “Hubby nixed that idea. The thought of Disneyworld with three toddlers does not sound fun!” But I couldn’t, because it dawned on me that the 3 toddlers were supposed to be MY three toddlers, and just seeing “three toddlers” and knowing they weren’t all mine, and thinking about running around Disneyworld with three toddlers that weren’t all mine made me ill.
Amy I know just want you mean. There are all kinds of things we want to do with the kids and that I should be excited about but it is hard to feel the loss and the happiness at the same time. One always takes over the other. I’m sorry that thoughts of a Disney vacation aren’t as happy as they should be.
Although my reason is very different, my feelings are much the same…
Dear Jessica. Each time I visit, your words require that I pause the frenetic activity and sit in quiet reflection.
Thank you so much for telling me this, such a compliment. Thank you.
Aww. Jess. This is why I love you and love coming here. You inspire me.