I don’t look like a mom.
When I go places, I don’t physically carry my baby around with me. I keep her in my heart and in my memories.
I see other kids and I smile and say hi, and their parents look at me funny in a protective way, or they just smile back.
But, they don’t know that I have a daughter named Taryn, who left this earth way too early.
I see parents ignoring their kids, and I want to tell them what could happen to them, and how much regret they’d have if they lost their child, like I lost Taryn.
As much as I fit in as a mommy by definition, I don’t have all the required things, like a child, to really fit in. I look like a person with no experience. A person with no child. A person who couldn’t possibly understand how much your heart fills with love the moment you see your baby.
I have too much experience being a mom. Yes I didn’t choose schools, or do homework, or hear about boys, or watch her get married. But I did everything in my power to give her a chance at life. I had to face birth AND death all in a matter of months. I had to tell the doctor it was OK to let my girl go to heaven. And….I held my daughter as she met Jesus.
As I cut my daughters birthday cake all alone tonight, I just couldn’t help the overwhelming sadness that came with it. There was no celebration. There were no balloons. There was no family. And most of all there was no Taryn.
Taryn, I love you so much. I would have gone to the ends of the earth for you. I miss you so…