I spent a good portion of six months away from my children while the duty of family called.
Now, I’m home, and I have no idea what I’m doing. It feels like these little people aren’t even mine anymore. It’s a lot like starting motherhood from the beginning, instead of being almost five years in.
My heart is broken, and it yearns to connect with my babies. But, regardless of how hard I try, nothing is working.
A few days ago I thought we were starting down the right path, but today feels like we’ve started at the bottom all over again. We, as humans, aren’t perfect, but this storm feels never ending. I am just a mother who wants to feel a connection with her children again, and Satan is doing everything in his power to make it a struggle.
Jax tells everyone he sees how much his mommy yells, and about all of my imperfections as if he’s writing the next best novel. Luci does an even better job of filling people in on our rough days.
I’m writing this, without answers, because it is real life. Sometimes our greatest breakthroughs happen in the midst of the storm, and though I’m still waiting, I’m also fighting like hell for just a gasp of air.
Most often we don’t share our struggles with others because it might look too messy. To the outside world, we appear perfect and flawless, which creates false expectations to be set for our own families. Maybe, just maybe, if we were all a little more honest with ourselves and each other, the stigma of perfection would dwindle and it would be so much easier to ask for help.
Things will get better, and this too shall pass. It might just take longer than you’d like. God has a plan. Rest in that tonight when your head hits the pillow.