Anyway, I laughed and my nephew, who is 6, says out loud:
"Well, Aunt Christy was almost a mother."
I wanted to die. Crawl in a hole. I wanted to scream. He is 6, I kept saying to myself. He has no idea. He is 6. You can't yell at him. What would I yell? Why would I yell? I hate this anger.
I quietly walked out and sat in the cry and began to cry. He looked at me a couple of times and I could tell he was confused. He's 6, He's 6, He's 6. He's just a kid.
The fact of the matter is-I need to learn to deal with this. I need to learn that people are going to say things that are going to hurt, to sting, to make me feel empty to my core.
The thing is-THE THING IS! I AM A MOTHER.
Yes, it is different. Yes, I should have my babies here on Earth, but I don't. But it doesn't change the fact that I am a mother to two babies. And I'm not crazy, I know that my nephew has no idea, and I'm not even insinuating that anyone would think otherwise. It's that I need to say this, write this, think this, because it is hard for me to believe, to really, truly believe.
I am a mother. I will always be a mother. I am. I am.