Our son was an accident, a glorious unplanned wonder, fate stepped in and decided it was our time long before we knew it. We were barely three months married; children were something in the hazy out-of-focus future. I hate to say that I was dismayed, distraught even, the day the pregnancy line turned blue. I thought I was too young, I thought our marriage was too new and weak to withstand the rigors of parenthood so soon. And then nine months later he arrived. Strong and screaming and full of fight. I instantly loved him, suddenly three seemed such a better number than two. He has been the lynchpin in keeping our marriage together when it has felt tortured beyond physical limits, a ray of shining light in the darkest of times.
My baby is now on the cusp of turning three, a mini-man, his own little person, straining at the ropes of my motherhood for independence. We would love another, a brother or a sister for him to call his own. But fate is not working in our favour anymore, a baby still so new that it’s presence was a secret in the world was taken away from me last December and since that there has been nothing. To experience the flip side of life is tough, my heart and mind struggle with the extremes of it. The door of motherhood has been opened to me and I have seen the treasures that lie beyond and can’t help but want more. I am so grateful and blessed for what I have but there is space in my heart for another, I hope I get the chance to fill it.
No comments:
Post a Comment