Some days I wish I didn’t feel so deeply for these babies of mine. I feel like I’m constantly on the verge of tears if I even stop and think. My heart aches for the trials they have, through no fault of their own. And I know, I know — this will make them stronger. But that doesn’t soothe my heart the way I wish it would. I wish I could be more than just their mother – I wish I was a healer.
But I am no such thing.
When we left the hospital with Amelia, we ran into a group of older ladies that stopped to check out the “latest model”. I’m sure they were shocked when they peered over my shoulder and saw her physical deformities, because the smiles all of a sudden turned to pity frowns and became whispers as they walked away.
I’ll never, ever be able to erase how I felt at that moment. It was the first time I experienced shame and embarrassment for being a mother. Didn’t they know we were bringing her home to die??
It’s happening again. When Owen was tiny, people didn’t expect him to look back at them. But he’s 4 months old now. And so many times a kind stranger comes up to us in public and tries to catch his eye, trying to coax out a smile. And my heart burns with fear and longing and sadness on the inside because they don’t know he can’t see. Will they understand his blindness, or will I get the whispers and pity frowns?
Owen obviously doesn’t even see them. It has happened so many times that I’ll never forget the slight confusion on their faces when we part ways, probably wondering what is wrong with my child.
I feel so blessed and so humbled for the babies we’ve been blessed with, no matter how long their time has been with us on earth. But is there peace to be found as a mother, or will it always be this way? Will the heartache and concern I feel ever turn into a full trust and reassurance in our Heavenly Father’s plan?
My daughter is 3. She has a chromosome deletion that caused a serious heart defect among other things. She is 100% feeding tube fed and doesn’t talk – at all.
Every single day someone says something about the fact that she didn’t say hi back to them or they look at strangely or with pity when I feed her in public.
My heart is permanently broken because of the challenges she came with. When it’s just her and her daddy and me in okay and can feel peace.
But the minute we are in public and someone says something I feel that heartache all over again.
This is just to say I understand and I’m sending a big hug your way.
Sending so much love back to you, Noelle. Perspective is everything, and some days when I’m strong I think to myself how sad it is that Owen’s light can’t be shared with everyone. I bet you feel the same with your sweet little girl. But honestly, most days when we go out in public I’m just downright scared of the stares and subtle comments. My heart crumbles when someone actually talks to us about where he “seems to be looking” (or not looking).
And his eyes WILL get better, but by how much we don’t know yet…but right now it’s heartbreaking. Thanks for sharing, Noelle.