Cemetery Mom

       I was scrolling through my Facebook feed late one night as I laid there trying to go sleep, and I began to notice all of the posts about being a baseball mom or a softball mom or a basketball mom or a dancer mom and it got me thinking. (like I really need MORE to think about) I began to think about how one day I will probably be one of those extremely dedicated, sometimes appearing psychotic, mothers that I am fortunate to have and that many of my friends have become to my Barrett. I really mean that in the best way possible! It also got me pondering on the mom club that I unfortunately had to join that so many don’t speak of.
     You don’t see us sporting cute hats or shirts that say “Mom of an Angel, literally.” You don’t get to see our little angels in action performing their feats as they do wondrous deeds in heaven. Instead, if we’re lucky, we only have still shots of them alive when they were inside of us. Some of us get to meet our little one, while sleeping, and are so blessed to have mementos of them. Some actually do get to hear a cry or see their eye color before the Lord calls them to their place with him. However we lose them is painful and places us in this undesired club. Hopefully, we have friends and family, that although might not understand our pain, support our process of healing. This leads me to my main premise of this post.
      A friend of mine had asked me months ago, “Doesn’t going to the cemetery make living without him harder?” I think for some people it does, and there is no shame in that. For me, I need it! I really didn’t give her a detailed answer then, but I think I can finally explain it. I desired so much to be a mother my entire life! I knew that I was meant for motherhood; not because I’m phenomenal (far from it), only because I’m just all about taking care of everyone. It was a struggle to conceive Barrett, but finally after 7 years filled with tears of sadness, there he was. I dove head first into the whole mommy role and didn’t look back. A couple months after Barrett’s first birthday, we got the huge unexpected surprise of being pregnant with Wyatt. I couldn’t believe it. I spent nine months trying to prepare myself for raising two boys under the age of two. (I never really got there!) Barrett continues to get everything of his mommy that he deserves. I feel that Wyatt should as well, even though he isn’t here to physically receive me. Going to visit him really is selfish. The cemetery isn’t where I feel him most, but when I’m not able to get out there to clean up his marker, put a new arrangement out, or just sit in meditation or prayer, I feel like I’m not doing my part as his mom. This, by no means, means that I think parents that don’t visit often aren’t doing their part; it is my personal feeling that I have about ME. I hate that a Babyland has to exist, but I’m glad for Wyatt that it does. I feel that he isn’t lonely. 
   So, one day I’m sure I’ll be a sideline mom of some sort for Barrett, but for now and forever, I’ll be a Cemetery Mom for Wyatt. I’ll share him with the world and all of the love I have for him. With love- Heather


2 Comments

  1. Absolutely beautiful. Call yourself whatever you want, and pride yourself in knowing that you are doing the best you can do in the role that you have. God blessed both of your boys with a wonderful mom.

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