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?