Becoming Mom Age

Becoming "mom age", that being the age when your friends start having kids, has taught me almost as much about myself, if not more, than becoming a mom myself.

Before I became a mother, I was that hounding friend telling other mother's to get their babies on bottles to come out for drinks, I was against co sleeping, I was pro independence, my baby would take a bottle and sleep in her crib and lost in my mind was this idea that babies are only as hard as you allow them to be. I was wrong. Once I became a mom, I didn't take any of my own advice I was freely giving out. I didn't know what it really meant to be a parent, to care for something else so immensely, but mostly what I didn't know before becoming a parent is how many women are suffering aching for sleepless nights and crying babies, these women want to get puked on and fight with their spouse about who's turn it is to change diapers. I didn't fully realize that becoming a parent, and even trying to become one, often equates irreparable heartbreak. I didn't realize that the things most women begrudge about parenting others long for and who don't judge you if you bottle or breast feed, or co sleep, or use disposable diapers, they just want the chance to do it.

While I was pregnant and even after I had my baby, friends were struggling to get pregnant, friends lost their baby to heart troubles, friends miscarried, and one friend had a baby that has changed me in ways I wish the world could be changed without having to go through it the way She did. The way that she carried a baby who she knew might not make it, delivered her baby, and spent 21 days loving him.

Carrying a baby inside you for months creates a lasting bond there is no denying that, but the days afterwards are like nothing else. A life that you created is now yours to hold, to love to care for, but for some women it doesn't last. These Mothers are left with empty hearts, empty hands, and empty bedrooms that they had spent forever preparing, dreaming of putting their babies to sleep in.

The experience of learning about these women has reminded me to be grateful. To not get lost in the nights spent up feeding a crying baby, or diaper changes, or fighting with your husband about what chores need to get done. Every time I look at my baby I appreciate her and it's because I know that not every woman has what I have. So, now when I rock her to sleep, or let her sleep in our bed, or comfort her with nursing I laugh at my former self who vowed to be everything I am not and I smile that I am much more attentive and loving and I am cherishing every moment because what I have learned. I'm not perfect. I'm just a mom and I understand more now than ever how lucky that makes me.

Because of Her I told my baby a little tighter.  I've slowed down. I've become a better mom because She lost her son.

To learn more about one moms journey & the impact of losing her son visit her blog here: https://carriedwithlove.wordpress.com

A Letter to a Lady I've Never Met

Today would have been my sister's 30th birthday. She passed away seven years ago in a single car accident on March 1st 2008. Every year on her birthday I have celebrated with dinner, drinks, spa days, anything to try to do something in her memory, but also selfishly make me feel better.

This year I wanted to do something different. A lady I've never met, but who works in the same hospital recently lost her son. I put together a little healing pack and wrote her a letter. I thought I would share this letter on the blog today in hopes of sending love to anyone else out there right now suffering from loss and the pain of grief.

Today I will remember my sister and also think of all others suffering from loss and pain.

Hello,

Although we've never met, I feel connected to you in way that only someone who has experienced loss would understand.  I could never begin to imagine what you are going through, but I have watched my mother relearn to navigate life the past seven years after losing my sister.

Today would have been her 30^th birthday.

I wanted to reach out to you to try and offer some words of hope because I know the journey you are facing is not easy and I still see it in my mother’s eyes. Seven years later, there are good days and there are bad days, but as you go along I hope you allow yourself to never feel guilty for being happy, for laughing, or for going a whole day without being sad. You are still here and that matters to so many people. I hope you allow yourself to feel your grief and take all the time you need to begin your way through the storm because, although you will not be the same person that walked in, you will come out of this with a new understanding of life, loss, and love.

I know that seven years after losing my sister I have a heart that is still wounded, a wound that has and will continue to close over time, but it will always leave a very deep scar that reminds me not only of the journey of life without her, but of her life.

I asked my mother for advice on what I could include in your “healing pack” and she said very soft Kleenex, the advice to allow yourself to stay in bed all day and cry when you need to, and something that smells good because for some time after her loss nothing seemed to smell good anymore.

I hope these small tokens of my love and hope for you can bring you a moment or two of peace knowing someone out there cares about you and what you’re going through.

Your friend,

Katie

If only heaven had a phone

Or does it??

Over the weekend I received a call from my college roommate who told me she had just gone to a psychic. The lady told her she knew two women who had passed away and one of them was quite young. This was true. She said the girl had died from loss of control. She then said this spirit was trying to channel to my friend and wanted her to tell her friend that she is okay.

Five years ago while living with my college roommate I lost my sister in a car accident. A loss of control one could say. My sister and my friends older aunt are the only two females my friend knew who had passed. How could this woman have made this up? It brought me to tears and gave me a sense of peace that day.

Grief begins as an open wound and over time the wound starts to heal but there will always be a scar serving to remind us of our loved ones, the storm the hit us, and the person we became when the storm was over.

To everyone who has lost some one, I commend you for keeping going and finding reasons to smile. Xo