I am comfortable. After years of turmoil from an abusive, unfulfilling, toxic relationship, I am finally in a good place. It has taken years to get here. It definitely did not happen overnight. It has taken work and it has taken time and it has been worth it.
For the first time in a long time, I can truly say that I am happy. I may not be a millionaire, or living lavish, but I am happy. I have a husband that loves me and spoils me. I have 3 kids that drive me nuts, but that bring me more joy than I ever knew was possible. I am running a business that I love, that allows me to stay home and only work part-time outside the home. I have great friends, good health and I can’t complain.
There has never been a better time or situation in my life to bring another life into the world. After trying for over a year, seeing those two pink lines on that pregnancy test that confirmed I was pregnant, filled me with incredible excitement and joy. Finally, we were going to have a baby!
I was finally going to have the chance to have a pregnancy where domestic violence, homelessness, stress and my age weren’t going to be an issue. This child was going to have a father that ACTUALLY wanted her. This baby wasn’t going to be unplanned or a ‘mistake’. This baby was not going to have to know homelessness. This baby was going to have EVERYTHING it needed. This baby was going to be my chance to get it right.
You see, I often worry that I have messed up my kids by putting them through so much trauma so early in their lives.. I wish my kids had been born into situations where their fathers wanted them. I wish they had been born at a time when financially I could provide everything for them. I wish they had never had to witness domestic violence. I wish they had had a mom that was less stressed, that was in a good place financially, spiritually, emotionally and mentally. I feel guilty for leaving them for days at a time with friends, because I was in the psych ward again. I feel shame and guilt that my daughter and I basically grew up together since I had her at 17. It kills me that there were times I couldn’t provide more than a box of Cornflakes and 2 cans of tuna for them. There is so much that I wish I had been able to do differently for my kids.
This baby was going to be my chance to FINALLY do it right. Married, happy, healthy and able to provide, but the Lord had other plans and I had a miscarriage.
To say I was devastated is an understatement. To say that I am over my loss would be a lie. It will be a while before I can walk near the baby section in the store without crying. It will take time before I can look at a baby announcement and not burst into tears. It will be a minute before I accept any baby shower invitations. That’s fine. Having been through this 3 times before, I understand it is part of the process.
Learning is part of the process too. And this is what I have learned from this miscarriage.
This baby was never meant for me to hold. This baby was not sent to me to kiss her feet and smell hear her voice. This baby was sent to me for the briefest of times, to teach me lessons I may not have learned otherwise. She was sent to me as a reminder. She was sent to me so that I could find myself. The 10 weeks I carried her allow me to boldly declare:
I am pretty fantastic.
I live life to the fullest.
I don't have time for petty BS, not because I don't give a damn, but because I care deeply for the things and the people that really matter.
I don't have time for fakery and tomfoolery.
I make moves, not excuses.
I use my voice for those that can't speak for themselves.
I rise because I have fallen on my knees before.
I speak, because I know what it is to be silenced.
I move, because I know what it is to be forced to stay stagnant.
I strut because I know what it is to be compromised.
I live freely because I know what it’s like to caged.
I am a badass! Hear me roar!
While my 3 kids may not have had what I thought would have been the perfect start to life, my life and their lives to date have taught them that:
It is about picking yourself up when you are down.
It is about valuing the things and the people that truly matter.
They are not defined by stuff, but by the integrity of who they are as people.
There is always a silver lining
Being broken doesn’t mean you are weak, it is a chance to be reborn and to rebuild bigger, better and stronger
So I rise from the ashes of my loss and wait for the day when I get to see her and thank her for the incredible gift she gave me in the 10 weeks I got to carry her!
So if not for myself, I rock my badassery for her, my other 3 angels waiting for me in heaven and the 3 angels I have with me on this earth. I own my worth and I add tax to it, not for myself but because my kids, my husband, my family deserve to have me operating on 10. So it’s far from a selfish thing, my badassery at it’s core, is the most selfless thing I can do.
Here’s to you baby girl and the unseen badass you always will be!
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