Mothering is hard.....

You guys are about the sweetest people in the world. Truly. Reading your comments and emails yesterday kept me sane. I was under the impression that I'd fall apart yesterday. I didn't. It was definitely not the easiest day in my life, but strangely not the hardest either. I had my husband to talk to, my kids to play with and you. That was enough. I don't feel alone in this. I was shocked at how many people have gone through the same thing. Shocked at the sheer number of people who lost a baby in the second trimester. Someone even told me in an email, that one in five pregnancies ends in miscarriage. One in five people. That number is insane. Can I tell you all honestly something? Last year when I lost my baby, I thought that I was alone; that I'd done something to make it happen. Those thoughts caused me to go off the deep end. I didn't realize how many people I knew who had lost babies, because no one had ever talked about it. My aunt had five of them in between her two kids; this I knew. But she was the only one who I knew about. In the last week, even my grandmother told me about having one in between my first two aunts and how she folded into herself for a while believing it was all her fault.

Why don't we talk about this stuff? Why do we keep it to ourselves and bury it inside? Is it fear? Fear that it's our fault? Fear that people will judge us? Or do we just not want to discuss it?

I don't have the answers....I don't know what I'm trying to say really. But I love each and everyone of you who told me your story yesterday. I needed to hear that, more than anything else. I love each and everyone of you who came by and read my story and didn't comment too.

Kristin, I adore you for sharing on my behalf. For telling people something that you might never have shared, for me. I just want to send you butt loads of wine, but more than that, I want to come and drink wine with you. Although, it's hard to do now that I live no where near you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Thank you.

Being a mother is hard work. I stole this line from Tori, but truer words have never been spoken. Some days I wonder who thought that I was adult enough to raise these beautiful little girls? Who in the hell thought I was mature enough to watch my heart walk around in the world every day? As mothers we sometimes gloss over the hard parts of parenting these little monsters. We talk about poop, big attitudes and not taking naps and we miss talking about our fears of inadequacy. Our fears that we aren't good enough and we're just creating the need for more therapists. I love some of the posts from the Internets this past week, for just the opposite of this. Because people are being honest on how hard this is and it's about time. The most notable one is HerBadMother's post from last weekend. This my friends is why I missed this space, why I missed blogging. Because a lot of us are able to write in words, what we gloss over in conversations. I love it. I needed it. I missed it.

My girls deserve for me to talk about this stuff. Not because they need to hear it today at six and four years old. For one day, just in case, so they don't feel alone. They deserve the world and my baby boy does too. I just have to figure out how to be that for them.

Off to look at Dragon Boats now, whatever the hell that is. (This is what I get for telling Logan to plan our day.)

ps. Name post on it's way. Am serious about getting over that hurdle. Ideas anyone? We have a long list that we like (or names we each like but the other doesn't)....Beckett, Harrison, Alexander, Cole, Wyatt, James, Jackson, Miles, Milo, Tristan....any ideas would be lovely.