I’m not sure what hurts more...
Have you ever looked at a picture and been so overwhelmed with emotion that your heart literally ached?
Driving away. Driving away from your home. The only home you have ever known.
I wanted a boy. At the time, I already had one boy, so I knew what to expect. But that was not really the reason.
Pregnancy really played a tole on my mental health. Since high school, I’ve been roughly the same weight. When the extra pounds started coming I got in a mental funk.
I need to be all in. Superficially, I am. I preach about openness and having a heart for foster care.
Those 40 weeks crept by, especially in the moment. I gained 41 lbs over those 40 weeks. (Wow, a pound a week! -- Yikes!)
One conversation that held so much weight. So much hurt. So much sadness.
This is about a very different type of mom guilt. One I am assuming that I don’t share with many.
Well, I’m 27 years old and no longer have that relationship to crawl back to, sooooo…