“Ice packs and squirt bottles surround the labor and delivery bathroom. She watches her newborn babe sleep through the plastic roll away bassinet. She uses the ice pack to ease the throbbing pain from giving vaginal birth hours prior.
Mothers mother through the pain.
Ice packs, belly wraps, and pain meds envelope the pull in table by her bedside. She watches her baby breathe while she counts how many breaths per minute. She sings a sweet lullaby while she wraps her newly stitched lower abdomen and lays an ice pack over her incision; representing her newest accomplishment.
Mothers mother through the pain.
Sore nipples, eyes encircled by the shadows of who she once was. Every 1.5 hours her baby wakes to nurse. He is 3 weeks old and his belly needs more nourishment than it did those first few days.
Mothers mother through the pain.
The sound of white noise, a bottle filled with formula nearly falls from her grasp because her postpartum carpal tunnel has set in. She’s tightly snuggling her precious babe while they both rest their tired eyes as she rocks her newborn infant back to sleep.
Mothers mother through the pain.
She doesn’t know if she can do this. She doesn’t know if she was meant to be a mother. Thoughts of sadness and goodbyes fill her mind. She is alone and wanting to ease her own pain. She calls for help and, finally, someone is listening.
Mothers mother through the pain.
She loves motherhood. It looks so good on her. But her heart aches for those children that never made it into her arms. She gives her baby girl Eskimo kisses, dresses her with big fancy bows, and imagines what her siblings before her would have looked like if only she had been able to see their faces.
Mothers mother through the pain.
She is physically ill. Her back is injured from her fluctuating weight throughout her pregnancies. She is exhausted physically and wants to be a joy for her children. So, she takes some medicine, drinks some coffee, and plays with her children. Healing can wait.
Mothers mother through the pain.
Her mind is soaring, her heart is racing, she feels like she could faint. She takes an anti-depressant, calls her therapist, and then takes her children outside for a water balloon fight.
Mothers mother through the pain.
The chemo is taking every part of her outer being away. She is left with only her bright eyes that resemble a shiny brown marble sparkling through a starlit sky. Yet, she asks her children to sit by her as she reads them their favorite stories.
Mothers mother through the pain.
She has been mentally abused for years. Her heart isn’t the same as it was when she first fell in love. She has to sneak away to free her soul of the hurt. Her children are always included in her escape. For she doesn’t want to escape from them, only her abuser. She takes them on adventures, teaches them how to treat their fellow humans, and keeps a smile on her face. She cringes when she returns home and sees his car in the driveway.
Mothers mother through the pain.
She visits his stone in the wall as part of her daily routine. He was taken as a young boy to meet his maker. Her heart explodes every single visit. Yet, she sings him that same lullaby she sang to him as a baby every day. ‘You are my sunshine,’ in a broken voice, is heard throughout the cemetery.
Mothers mother through the pain.”
This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Holly Dignen. You can follow her journey on Instagram and Facebook. Submit your own story here, and be sure to subscribe to our free email newsletter for our best stories, and YouTube for our best videos.
Read more from Holly:
Please SHARE this story on Facebook to encourage others to cherish every moment and love what matters most.