There are just some days

There are just some days where I just want to come home and cry.  Today was one of those days.  It was a happy day...but it was also a really difficult day for me.  I struggled a lot.  Today wasn't about me.  It was about celebrating with family and friends.  And about being utterly and crazily happy for a woman in my life who has been one of my greatest supporters over the past nearly 10 years, but most especially the past year.  Shared experiences do that for you, no matter how long ago that shared experience happened.



But needless to say...I had a hard day.  Lots of kids.  Pregnancy.  Surrounded by it all.  I haven't been that surrounded by all of that in the past 10 months.  It felt suffocating.  I wanted to cry, but I knew that it wasn't the time or place.  Now I need to cry.  But it feels selfish.  I'm lucky in so many ways.  And everyone fights their own battles.  And I shouldn't be upset at other people for what I can't control.  I don't know their stories. 

But it doesn't take away the hurt.  The pain of hearing another little boy with your angel son's name....especially a toddler.  My babies should be here.  Seven or so months old and HEALTHY.  Not ashes in a box that I stare at every night wishing that I were holding them instead.  Longing to touch their skin...to kiss their cheeks.  To give them one last hug or a cuddle.  I dream of that every night.  I picture what it would be like.  I dream.

I don't think I can ever let go of that dream.  The dream of what it would be like if my sons were still here. The dream of raising twins.  I know that it's all a dream.  Just like so many things I have wanted in life are just a dream...something that will never happen, but something that will keep me going.  I guess I just have to keep telling myself that if there really is a heaven, I will someday see and hold my boys again.  That's the dream I hold onto...the day I get to run to my babies and kiss and hug them for all eternity.  Because nothing can replace the dream of that feeling.

I know I'm a mom.  I know I am THEIR mom...but nothing can ever replace that I will never hear them cry.  Never.  That I will never hear THEM call me Mommy.  I dream of the day that some little boy or girl will call me Mommy.  That word will be music to my ears.  I need that dream.

So tonight I cry.  I cry missing my babies.  I cry wishing they didn't suffer.  I cry hoping that someday I get to hug and kiss them again and hear them call me Mommy.