today is a work day. away from both my babies. I usually come to the same spot, sit close to the same corner, usually order the same thing. I like my comfort zone. this day only happens once a week. I look forward to this day every week. time by myself. time to collect my thoughts. time to ground myself. time to dive face first into blogging, into my social media work, and etsy orders.
time to catch up on life outside motherhood.
today was different than last Friday and the Friday before that. although I am in the same spot, drinking the same drink, eating the same meal after doing the same workout, I find myself surrounded by a different crowd.
a mother-daughter crowd.
I immediately get hit straight in the face with sadness. as I look around I see different mother-daughter relationships. I see different generations of mother-daughter duos. my heart ached for mom. I sit in this corner alone. without my kids. without my mom.
most days I am fine. but when it hits, it hits hard and I feel like I am suffocating.
being an adult without a mom is strange. it’s hard. it’s confusing. isolating.
being a mom without a mom is a struggle. it’s lonely. coated in nostalgia.
I am forced to flip the script. everyday. I have no other choice but to use these emotions and put them into my family. my kids. my husband. our memories.
I remember starting the adoption journey and telling myself to use these emotions of misfortunate and sadness to find our daughter. well. here she is. in front of me. within arms reach. I can create the memories I miss with Brooklyn. and with Beckett. I can hope + dream + look forward to these Friday mid-day lunch dates with my own kids where I know my mom is always present.
these days are tough.
can’t wait to get home to my babies.