This morning, I’ve been searching through old posts. It really is quite miraculous to be able to read something and transform into the person you were when you originally wrote it. To remember the feelings, the fears, and the moments of realizations that come with placing yourself back to an original point in time.
Here is a short excerpt from one of my most popular blog posts:
At some point, I’ve realized that all of these wishes for my child were simply me saying I wish my kid was different than his inner being. What kind of an awful mother does that?? This is the baby that my husband and I dreamed of. The baby that we wished for and tried for and prayed for. The baby that I laid on bed rest for for several months. This is my son that was lucky enough to meet my mom before she passed, and thus, the only child of mine that will ever be able to have this incredible gift. This is my beautiful blonde haired, blue eyed little boy and I, as his mother, spend more time wishing he would change than appreciating what he is.
To read the post in its’ entirety, please click here: My Wish For My Son