Behind the Mask

This may sound dramatic. It does even as I write it.

But, it’s real, from the depths of me.

I am not strong. I am not tough. In fact, today, I am crushed.

They are five months young.

How can I send my two tiny babies away every day?

How can I have someone else raise them morning, noon and evening? Why can’t it be me? They need my warmth. My love. My heart.

People say “you know it’s good for them.”

Do I?

This isn’t about them.

This is about me.

I can admit that.

Until I had my own I didn’t understand the pull another human can have on your entire soul. Being separated from them already seems too heavy a cross to bear.

I’ve been in denial.

Haven’t organized the milk they’ll need, milk my body creates, every day. In bags. With dates. Frozen for months. In preparation for this day. So someone else can give them sustenance.

Haven’t filled out the required forms (a reminder call from daycare prompted me to accept, the time has come). Don’t know where their crib sheets are. Didn’t even bring the forms to the doctor that need to be turned in – in order for them to start. (Which will now be an expedited $50 each).

It’s 9:30 the night before they leave me – and nothing is prepared. I am not prepared.

It’s just not fair.

I pride myself on being the strong one. But right now, I can’t breathe or pick myself up off the floor.

I know it gets easier. I’ve been here before. But that doesn’t make me want to walk them through those doors tomorrow in my arms, and leave empty handed.

My heart is broken. My breath is short. I want to hold them tight now and forever.

I don’t want to go to sleep. Sleep brings the day I’ve been dreading. They leave me tomorrow, and there is no stopping time or turning back the clock.

This is me. Torn apart. Heartbroken. Behind the mask.

Author: BexHasBabies

I’m a wife and mom of a four year old and a set of two-year-old twins, (in)fertility warrior, community builder, supporter, friend, connector, counselor, advocate, doula, coach, Licensed Master of Social Work based out of Manhattan. After embarking on my own path to becoming a mother, something in me shifted. My passions, my identity, my purpose all took on new meanings. I realized how lonely it can be for those without community, support, or someone in their corner to guide them. From that moment I realized I wanted to help women setting out on this chapter of their lives-- whether they are struggling with infertility (as I did), pregnancy challenges, miscarriage or infant loss, life as a new mom, or all the spaces in between. I am particularly passionate about normalizing infertility, postpartum challenges, pressures associated with social media, breastfeeding and everyday struggles balancing life with infants and toddlers. I aim to add humor and my own personal reality to these and other parenting topics with the hope that it makes women understand they are not alone. I am in the trenches with you and we’re all just doing our best. My best, your best, is good enough. Its-Conceivable.com @itsconceivablebyrebekahrosler

3 thoughts on “Behind the Mask”

  1. Life is challenging keep your head up. Your babies have good and loving parents. They and you will be fine. Trust me. From one parent to another. Roger out.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I cannot imagine. Wish this country had more of an actual ‘village’ feel so you and other moms wouldn’t have to go through this. Change needs to happen. In the mean time, thinking of you. Let yourself cry when you need to but remember you will get through this. Luckily the twins have each other during the day!!!

    Like

  3. I remember my first day back at work. I was a wreck and the twins were only 3 months. I wasn’t ready and going back to work was way more difficult than their 1.5 month NICU stay. Stay strong mama! It will get easier.

    Like

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