April 3rd

The other day I realized it was exactly one month until my mom’s transition date and I haven’t been the same since.

Almost everything agitates me, I’m plagued with hard memories and reminded of the time I walked my mother home.

I’m also reminded of the time God literally carried me. There were so many days when I felt like I was going to pass out - I used the wall to hold me up while waiting for my uber to get to a hotel where I’d try to sleep for a few hours just to do it all over again that night.

I recall the times I had to step into the hallway because what I was seeing was too much, or the time I had to sit under my mom to hold her up so she could be upright enough to eat since because she could no longer sit up on her own. I also remember the look on my great uncles face and his tears and he saw how bad things had gotten with his favorite great-niece - my observation not his admission.

I’m tearing up now. It was so incredibly hard and I know God was with me because there’s absolutely no way I was able to get through without Him.

It was a “hear I am, Lord / use me” type of situation. And I wouldn’t change it but it still hurts.

So I’ll cry and I’ll cry again and I’ll isolate and eventually I’ll come out and then I’ll tackle Mother’s Day and then ill be ok again but for now, I’m a little sad and that’s alright.

I lost my womb and I’m sad about it.