What I Would Give

Reading through works of a bereaved mother, Stephanie Paige Cole, who turned the loss of her daughter count in a much bigger way, I stumbled upon a poem she wrote that spoke of exactly how I feel about mothers in general.

I have yet to be a mother of a living child though I feel the alienation of a mother with an angel child. I wish for no one to experience this enigmatic pain.

I do not resent mothers who have living children, quite the opposite actually. Lucky is the word I'd use. Oh how lucky they are. I can just imagine the joy and pride they feel for having the chance to nurture and raise their miracles. How privileged they are!

What I would give to experience sleepless nights cradling my child in my arms, lulling him to sleep. Waking up early in the morning and ready him to school. To be there for him throughout his growing years. The future that will never be.

Do you grumble about how difficult it is to be a mother with children to raise? Oh how lucky you are!

Why I Cannot Join A Moms Group

Stephanie Paige Cole

Surrounded by women

With children in their arms

On their laps

Circling their legs

I belong and I don't

I meet the criteria to be in this club

With a little one balanced on my hip

Playing with my hair

It is a typical mom conversation

What foods have you introduced?

Is he sleeping through the night?

Anyone thinking about having a second?

That's not what’s on my mind

There's a little girl laughing in the corner

She would be just her age

Now I am choking on thoughts

That I cannot turn to words

I will not allow myself to cry here

But I miss her I miss her I miss her

You will alienate yourself

You will be the-woman-with-the-dead-baby

You will not make new friends

I repeat it until I accept it

I chat about teething

I go home and cry

Yes he’s sleeping through the night

He likes pears and avocado

And we’re starting to think about having another

But that would be our third.

And you don’t realize how good you have it

There are things worse than sleepless nights

with cranky infants

There are sleepless nights alone