For the longest time I said I didn’t want kids. I watched my own mother stumble through motherhood in a haze of substances. I won’t go into that because it’s not about her it’s about me.
She wasn’t always like that. Unlike my younger siblings, I saw a side of mom that no one else did, back when it was just the two of us. She was pretty cool. She let me watch Madonna videos on MTV and she let me have slumber parties. When I had friends over she got us pizzas and rented videos. We were pretty broke; we had to rent the VCR too. But it was great! I had a cool bunk bed even though I was an only child. More importantly, I felt that I was first in my mom’s life . She had my best intentions at heart.
When I got older and started having relationships of my own, I saw motherhood as a big job. One that terrified me actually. So I decided I would never have kids because I could barely take care of myself.
Then I got sober. I started to date and realized I really wanted to settle down. I wanted a family.
When I met Jim I knew he was the one even though I was engaged to someone else at the time. It didn’t take long for us to figure out we belong together.
Then we got pregnant and I was so thrilled! I couldn’t wait to give my child everything I never had. A mother who would always be there.
I went through my pregnancy so fucking excited to meet my daughter and be her mom.
Then Grace died.
I’m still a mom, yet no one who sees me on the street knows it.
I’m still a mom, but no one knows.