Motherhood is joy, and it is pain.
Joy is easy, and it is polite. You can put it on a card and take it out to brunch.
Pain is hard, and it is ugly. You want to hide it away, but, like joy, it cannot be contained.
For the bereaved mother, there is no separation of the two. To ignore one is to deny the depth of the love you carry for the child you can no longer hold.
This Mother’s Day, I went deeper into the pain and wrote a piece for CMTRF. It wasn’t easy to write, so it may not be easy to read. It’s a part of my motherhood, though, and millions of others who know that love has a cost.
I would do it all over again, for the privilege of being her mother.