I am the face

I am the face of a mom who has unanswered questions, confusion, sadness, moments of severe depression, scattered moments of happiness intertwined with anger at its most severe.  I am a mom who stood at the grave of a little girl I had forever longed for.  My face wears its pain most days.  The leftover days are just nonchalant because I really could give less of a damn that day, about almost anything.

I am the mom buying graveside decorations, solar lights, and a headstone for a daughter who has only ever worn a dress and wings.  I am the mom who you see darting through stores to avoid the baby department or babies altogether.  I am the mom whose breath is stolen from her at any sight of a newborn.  I am the mom who has to hold it all together for the sake of the ones who are here with me and need me here with them.

I am the mom who has had faith aplenty, lost it completely, and am trying to regain it.  I am the mom who buys balloons and flowers for a little girl who will never hold them in her hands.  I am the mom who drags herself to make it through many days.  I am the mom who talks to her daughter even though she cannot be seen.

I am the face of a mom who lost it all.