The majority of time I hear a lot of phrases that are supposed to be helpful, but usually do more harm. I’ve written about it many times before because it really does hurt and those words just swirl in my brain. On top of all those things, I’ve had a really horrible week with Anthony moving out and adjusting to being alone.

I want to be very candid with you all; week twenty-four sucked. The majority of the week was spent in bed, under my covers. There were moments I wanted to rip my skin off to feel relief. Seriously, physical pain would have felt so much better than this mental and emotional anguish. I feel so bad and I know Jensen sees this. What kind of mom sits there and loathes herself? I guess someone could answer with, you’re really not a mom. This week I probably couldn’t have even defended myself and my motherhood…

The very person who would do anything for her son wouldn’t have had the energy to defend my motherhood. Grief has completely broken me.

Today I heard one of the best things since Jensen’s been born:

“He’ll always love and remember you.”

Chills.

I know Jensen will love me forever and how could you ever forget your mom? But even though I know these things, I don’t get to hear it enough. I’ll never hear Jensen say those words, so it’s nice for all of this sorrow to be alleviated with kind words. Words about Jensen and his feelings towards me were like sweet whispers in my ears. It was everything I needed to hear to end the week.

My sweet, little love protecting his mommy while she’s in pain. He sends other people to let me know he’s okay and to show his love. I’m so thankful to be his mother and for all that he’s taught me in the year and a month since he was first known about. When I feel like I’m doubting my motherhood, I pass by Jensen’s picture and know this unexpected motherhood is all mine. This life was not what I planned it to be. I never would have known Jensen would have died or that I would be alone in my bed, crying as I write my feelings out six months after he was born.

As horrible as I’ve felt, I know this cruel world sometimes doesn’t let other people hear good things. Maybe they were like me three days ago, when I couldn’t get off the couch as I thought about peeling my skin off so I could escape. They didn’t get to hear what they needed to. They couldn’t get off the couch and continue with their day and even week. Maybe they’re even questioning their motherhood because they’re babies aren’t in their arms either. A baby they carried for all of his or her life and loved them so fully and the life she had planned was stolen away from her. I want you to hear this, you’re loved and missed by your baby. Even when you feel nothing else but pain, you are enough. You’re a beautiful mother who has had the worst thing happen to her. We’ll make it through together, I promise.

I’d also like to give a heads up for October.

October is not just Breast Cancer Awareness Month, it’s also Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. I’m going to be posting a little bit more about what I have planned for the month, I just wanted to get the word out there in my circle of non-bereaved parents. If you’re wearing pink for Breast Cancer Awareness, remember to wear some blue for Jensen and all the other angel babies who have gone too soon.