Eight Months and Thirty Years

A morning filled with intense emotions.  The highs and lows of motherhood swirling within.  Today marking thirty years of being a mother.  Reflecting on how astonishing it feels to have a daughter this old.  Appreciating the good fortune of being able to share my life with her.  Valuing our loving relationship.  So proud of the woman she is. Simultaneously, recognizing it was Monday morning eight months ago today when my son left this world.  The feelings of grief understandably heightened.  Powerful emotions stemming from these two extreme experiences.  Coexisting.  Realizing love is at the core of it all.

Goodbye Sweet Jack

She was so excited when she shared her news with me that she was pregnant, and a couple of hours later, I had a vision of her carrying a baby in her arms swaddled in a blue blanket wearing a blue toque on his head.  It would be a boy!  Motherhood was something she could hardly wait to embark on.  It was something I too had been eagerly awaiting, to become a grandmother, marking yet another stage in my life.  After she and her husband saw that tiny heartbeat on an ultrasound at two months, it was a devastating disappointment a month later to find that it was no longer beating.  What made you choose to leave so soon?  We already loved you, and you had even sent me a name, Jack.  Deep down I understand that your soul was experiencing exactly what it needed, reincarnating for that brief time in your mother's womb and then leaving to continue on your path.  However, the sadness for not having been able to know you lingers.  Goodbye sweet Jack.