I’ve been….not ok lately. Like really, really not ok. I’ve cried all the tears. I’ve hated myself and hated my life. I’ve felt – not just thought, but known, deep down to my very core – that I am a failure. If I can’t nurse these babies, I don’t even know who I am as a mother. Maybe I’m not a mother at all.
Then this morning, there was this moment. The love was palpable between these two. It filled the room and it filled my heart.
Maybe the twins don’t nurse. But they never wanted to. I didn’t take anything away from them. Maybe they’re not missing out. Their lives are different. Everything about their existence, from the moment their egg split apart and they became two, has been different from my other babies. Why do I feel things must be the same? They never will be, not for these babies.
They aren’t aware that their mother has failed them. They will not see me this way. All they know is that their mother loves them and takes care of them. They have a good father, and three siblings who adore them. They are surrounded by love. That has to be enough.
I think it is enough for them. The question is, will it ever be enough for me?