This post may be difficult for some to read, and that’s okay. I may offend some and I hope that I don’t. I especially want you blog mama’s who read this not to take offense this is no depiction of anything I’ve seen from y’all. I’ve come to really love my blog friends and the way you share your life with me.

I was scrolling through my Facebook and Instagram, and could barely
keep my reaction to myself.

I saw post after post of mamas complaining about rushing to Target to get Valentine’s for their kid’s class. They had to bake some treats for the Valentine’s Day Party at school. They also had to go grab Valentine’s specials for their babes.

They had to… HAD… to do those things?

I know I’m different now because everything I read I read between the lines. These few mama’s were complaining about so many special things. Special things I wish I was fortunate enough to complain about.

But here’s the difference: if I was, I sure as hell wouldn’t be complaining at all.
I’d be relishing the opportunity to do each of those things.

Maybe I’m being a little dramatic and over sensitive, so be it. The fact of the matter is, while you’re complaining about something many mama’s in fact love to do… there are other mama’s out there that WISH they could do those things.

I understand you work, you have family, friends, housework, food to make. All these daily chores to get done and the simple act of “running to Target to grab crap for your kid’s class” is cutting into those other things that you have to get done.

I’m not saying that being a parent is easy. That it doesn’t get stressful. Or that you may feel overwhelmed at times.
Good for you it means you are actually doing things for your children.

However, shame on you. God gave you a gift and from the seat I’m in reading your daily posts (complaint after complaint) all I see is that you don’t appreciate that gift. Especially when I’d LOVE to have my daughter here and do every single thing you listed that you hate and don’t want to do.

So, Mamas while you complain about taking your girl to dance recital, carpooling a bunch of boys to practice, washing stinky smelly football uniforms, groceries to buy, a house to clean, and dinner to make… while you complain about some of the joys of being a mama do you realize there are other mama’s out there like me?

Ones that don’t get to do those things? Ones that don’t get to hear their sweet baby’s voice, rock their little girl each night fighting sleep, hurry their boy to practice and watch him run awkwardly in all that football gear…

Do you even realize the gift you’ve been given?

I’d love to hear about your bad day but I’m not so sure you’d love to hear about mine.

How about while you were rushing through Target grabbing whatever “crap” you thought your kids needed for their class parties, I was crafting a wreath for my daughter’s grave.

While you’re complaining you have no me time for a manicure and shopping for yourself, I wander through the baby section of every store I go to. I helplessly roam those aisles with tears in my eyes remembering registering for my girl. Remembering the dreams I had of pushing her in that stroller or rocking her in that ever so comfortable glider. Or, even worse I pick up every cute little girl outfit and long to put my little girl in it with the cute bows I made for her.

Only her dresser is empty. Her nursery is empty. My arms are empty.

While you wish you had more me time, I wish I had none.
I wish I smelled like baby puke, had an overdue nail, hair appointment whatever.

You should know there are so many mama’s like me.

There are mama’s out there like me that would give up everything to have a billion loads of wash, groceries to buy for those hungry kiddo’s mouths, errands to run for holiday festiveness, dance recitals, and football practices to get to.

I’m a mama without my baby. My arms are empty. And my heart is heavy.

“There is, I am convinced, no picture that conveys in all its dreadfulness,
a vision of sorrow, despairing, remediless, supreme.
If I could paint such a picture, the canvas would show only a woman
looking down at her empty arms.”
Charlotte Bronte

I hope all you lovely mama’s enjoy your Valentine’s Day with your hubby and babes! I know I’m enjoying a warm fire, wine, my hubby and fur babe on the couch.
 

I visited Lylah’s grave and reminded her to smile down on me a little more today because my heart is extra heavy. And guess what? A snow that was supposed to merely dust the town has dumped four inches already today.
Thank you Lylah Grace, mama loves you too baby girl. Always have and I always will.

  My beautiful Valentine's!

xoxo

Grace

Grace:

-Elegance or beauty of form, manner, motion, or action

-A pleasing or attractive quality or endowment

-Favor of goodwill

via Dictionary.com

 

Grace is given to us because God wants us to have it. It's in His kindness that He shows us grace. God sends us salvation through Jesus, and we’re given grace
by His sacrifice on the cross for us.

Lylah was so beautiful. She was wonderfully and fearfully made.

Her life holds so much endowment. She was my gift.
Lylah's life meant hope to me.
And once her life was gone her memory meant grace to me.

I’ll never let her memory die because of what that means for me.

That little girl’s memory will live far longer than I will. And her legacy will be known forever in my heart. But also in my doctor’s, those nurses, my family, and my hope: anyone that reads this. Because by losing Lylah God revealed something to my doctor. Something she can help me with. Something I can overcome to have more
babies that I pray God lets me hold alive.

Her short presence in our lives is beautiful.
The goodwill of her life I believe God has bestowed upon me. I believe our story is Lylah’s goodwill. By telling it, sharing my love, joy, hope, fear, anger, grief, and grace I prove the faithfulness in God’s grace for us. It’s proof to His promise.

Lylah was God’s grace to me.

I prayed, wished, hoped, and longed for a baby girl.
And He delivered.
But He also had His own plan.

And that’s something I learn a little more about each day.

But by God’s grace, each time I waiver a little in His plan He forgives.
He’s always there to pick me up and whisper,
it’s all going to be okay, remember I have a plan.

And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee;
for my strength is made perfect in weakness

-2 Corinthians 12:9-