Thinking about life in terms of what you’ve endured makes heartbreak a little less bitter if you shift your perspective. I’ve been saying lately to encourage others: You’ve gotten out of 100% of the jams you’ve been in. Your success rate of getting through what you’re going through is stellar! God has never failed you.
This is the good, positive, optimistic ass advice I’m out here giving my loved ones when to be honest, I’m more shooketh every day!
I am terrified of being a mother.
There, I said it! And I know I’m only allowed to be excited because I’m grown as fuck (over 30, totally prepared, right? TUH), and this is my rainbow baby. I’ve cried and prayed for this. Maybe I’m overthinking, which I’m definitely prone to doing; but the idea of being solely responsible for another human being, their well-being, upbringing and overall success in life is WILD to me. No shade to the fathers, ya’ll hella essential. I am in no way diminishing your importance when I say the mother is the most important person in a child’s life. I think about my relationship with my own mother and get overwhelmed with emotion. There is no one who has hurt or loved me more. She’s wounded and healed me tremendously and I’ve still got some scars to prove it. And that’s coming from the child of an EXCELLENT mother! Whew, chile, I couldn’t imagine having another! (I LOVE YOU MA!) It’s some terrible ass moms out there, and I’m sure I won’t be one but SHEEEIIIIT. Ya’ll. It’s extremely exciting, yet it’s intimidating. However, I know I can do it because I’ve lost a child. I know how it feels to anticipate a baby that I never get to meet, so I can certainly meet a baby I’m afraid to anticipate. I know how it feels to go through the agony of engorgement, with no baby to even have the option to nurse. I bet I can rise to the occasion of breast feeding. I’ve naturally birthed a baby who I knew had no future, surely I can bear the labor pains for a thriving baby I’ve carried to term, whose life holds endless possibilities. My setbacks have proved my strength, tested my faith and broadened my experience. So that I know I can bear it, my God can be trusted and my testimony is the proof. If I can lose a child, I am surely equipped to love, raise and enjoy one. If mourning is missing what was and could have been, I know I deserve to rejoice in all that is to come. This life shit is unpredictable. I don’t know what kind of mom I’ll be. But I know the lows make the highs that much doper. In the words of the wise emcee The Lioness-Give thanks.
This is week 28 for us by God’s grace. Somebody didn’t make it this far. In 2017 that somebody was me. As myself and my family approach Cairo’s third birth and death day this month, I am in awe of how tables turn. Cairo transitioned at 23 weeks weighing one pound. I’m in my third trimester with Carter, and he’s already almost three pounds. These details hit different with a rainbow baby. Every day/week matters that much more. Every kick counts. Sometimes when my baby sleeps, I jiggle my tummy to wake him. He’s probably annoyed with me already, but I just need to know he’s alright. There’s so much assurance in his movement. I was afraid I would not have the courage to endure this process again, afraid of the possible outcomes. My fears are different now. They’re sweeter. Life based instead of death based. I wonder what kind of man he will be. If someday he’ll have the opportunity to experience a love as fulfilling as his father and I have. If he’ll be creative as we are or be embarrassed by his old rapping ass parents. If we’ll brave this process again. If one day, he’ll be a big brother.
Whether you’re a mother or not, we’ve all experienced some sort of loss. Loss naturally breeds fear; but I’m sure we all can agree that fear fuels you to want to do and be the best you can be. For this next leg of my journey, I’m committed to being the best mom. Pray for me! And while you’re at it, pray for your own. Whoever she’s been to you, I’m certain it wasn’t easy.