A different kind of mom?

It really hit me today, while priming the walls in Ryan's old nursery/Gummy's future nursery, that I have spent so much time focusing on getting and staying pregnant that I have given very little thought to what happens if we actually bring a baby home this time.

It's something I rarely thought about while carrying Ryan; I just assumed that at the end of the nine months, a bouncing baby would come home and we'd muddle our way through just as most new parents do. It just never occurred to me that our journey wouldn't end the way it does for most parents.

But this time, I've been so consumed with worry and doubt that I haven't allowed myself to explore what will happen after May 29. It's probably that self-preservation mechanism thing kicking in again, protecting my fragile psyche. But, this is something I need to think about, because May 29 arriving isn't like we're headed off on vacation or something as equally recreational. It'll mark the end of one very long, tumultuous journey and the beginning of a fresh, new life.

So, now I wonder what kind of mom I'll be to our little girl. I've spent so much time as a mother in mourning that I truly have no idea how to be a mom to a living child. Again, something that parents to living children rarely, if ever, think of. It seems to come naturally to them - at least from my naive perspective.

It's a little frightening to think I'll be responsible for this little person's every need. Is this maybe the part of my journey and healing that truly allows me to let go of some of the grief and pain that I've carted around for so long? Is this what I've been working toward for so, so long - finally being able to leave some of my pain behind me while embracing the true beauty the world has to offer?

I've been tagged!

My response time these days is truly lacking, and I apologize for that. Kristin "tagged" me nearly three weeks ago, asking me to choose a photograph that represents myself in my role as a mother.

But since reading her post, I've been stumped over what photo to choose. I managed to narrow my choices down to two, which I feel, in their own right, represent me as a mom in a happier time.



This picture was taken in Ryan's nursery in June of 2005, just two months before his arrival. My mother-in-law and her husband were visiting from out of town and volunteered to take a picture of the proud parents-to-be in their son's room. When I look at this photograph, I see so much promise and happiness in both our faces, and I can still feel Mike's loving embrace enveloping me, with his hands resting gently on my swollen belly. In that moment, I never felt more surrounded by love.



This picture was taken about 15 minutes after Ryan entered the world. It was after the apparent crisis had been averted during my labor, but was before our world came crashing down with the word of Ryan's bleak diagnosis and prognosis. Everything was still right with the world and I was in complete awe at the sight of this little person that I had helped to create. It was before his little body was whisked away and was tethered to a dozen machines. It was when I could see how proud Mike was to meet his beautiful son - the spitting image of himself. And, it was when my heart was full of so much love I thought it might burst.

As much as I adore both of these pictures, it's sometimes difficult for me to look at them, since I know that our story doesn't continue as we had dreamed and hoped and planned, and as most people would imagine it would have. I look at these pictures and realize that our innocence and our baby's life were snatched away in the blink of an eye, with no explanation to help ease our pain or lighten the burden of grief that we will always carry.

These pictures will always hold a special place in my heart and my memory, since it was in those moments, frozen in time, that I felt my life and my role as a mother had finally been fulfilled and I was complete.