Anonymous

"You're too Emotional". "Don't be so dramatic". "You shouldn't be so Sensitive". "Aren't you over that yet?"

As I Sit.
Mums holding their newborns.
As I Sit.
Suppressing my deep yearning to nurture.
Suppressing the sadness.
Suppressing my grief.
Trying to forget my feelings & memories of humiliatingly invasive treatments.
As I Sit.
Watching parents lovingly interact with their kids.
As I Sit.
Pushing down the anger that you called your child the name I had picked out for mine.
Pushing aside the joyful experiences of my life that I had wanted to pass on to my own.
Holding back the envy knowing I will never see myself in a child, feel their biggest hugs around me or hear them call me mum.
As I Sit.
Being shown the videos & pics of your Grandchildren.
As I Sit.
Plastering on a happy smile.
Conjuring up the energy to show enthusiasm.
Anxious of the legacy I will leave.
Fearful for my future.
As I Sit.
Friends sharing their experiences of motherhood.
As I Sit.
Silent, shameful of not being able to relate.
Silent, sadly realising the distance between us.
Silently grieving yet another loss.
As I Sit.
You tell me I should be happy with just being an Aunt & that it should be enough.
As I Sit.
Being reminded I'm not their mum & that only a mum knows, or feels, or hurts, or is loved, or is blessed, or is worthy enough.
Not feeling good enough.
Not feeling blessed enough.
Not feeling strong enough.
Not feeling loved enough.
Not feeling worthy enough.
As I Sit.
Sobbing uncontrollably on the toilet.
Screaming & rocking myself on the floor.
Tears streaming down my face wondering if they will ever stop.
Disgusted that my hurt dictates my behaviour.
Disappointed that you don't see me.
Missing you.

While You Sit.

Saying that she's just being emotional.