You’ve been complaining a lot. You whinge about your children. Your house. How busy you are. The activities you take your kids to. The amount of time they “need” you. Your lack of sleep. You complain about the holiday you just took where you couldn’t relax and you complain about the amount of time you had to spend at the shops prior to Christmas. You complain about the weather, you complain about your husband. You are justified. You are righteous. You are the victim in every story. These things have been done to you and you need to be soothed, cajoled, reassured that you are justified, you are right and you are the victim. You’ve spoken about these things with multiple people and they have reinforced your position and shared their own complaints. You have fired up for them and given them advice for the would’ve, could’ve, should’ves. If you are feeling uncomfortable right now thinking I’m talking about you…please be rest assured I am not. I haven’t been in your house judging you, taking notes and saving up every comment you make for my blog. Like most of the things I write here – I’m talking about me. Only me.
Day should be light. Crying should produce tears. Mothers should have babies. The heart of my baby stopped beating while I was supposed to be keeping her safe. The sound of silence reverberated in my womb, causing contractions and devastation. My body failed me and the future shattered in thousands of pieces. Sophia’s stillness at [...]