10 November KCttC

Thursday at my MOPS meeting I almost got up and ran out within the first fifteen minutes. But, I stayed. I didn't want to. But, I did. There was a lady addressing our group about the death of her not quite three year old daughter. It was one of those rare tragedies in which everything just happened to fall into place at the right, or rather wrong time, leading to the premature death of a bubbly, beautiful baby girl.
As she continued to tell her story it became harder and harder for me not to run as fast as my feet could take me back home to my babies. It was brutal to listen to the devastating details of the four and a half week long hospital duration and the decision to remove life support. All I could do was hold back tears and wish myself away into the arms of my sweet, beautiful babes.
My intense desire to be clutching my children closely was beginning to be replaced by some unknown feeling, though. And, I didn't care for it all. It was shame.
My cheeks flushed hot with the embarrassment of realizing how selfish I truly was at that moment. I should have been feeling overwhelming compassion for this woman, who was still deeply grieving four years later. Yet, all I thought about was leaving a discussion that made me extremely uncomfortable, and configuring escape routes that would get me to my own children the quickest. I was a weak woman that night.
While I don't know how to turn my initial reaction into something less shameful and positive, I do know that what I felt was most likely quite natural. I imagine I wasn't the only mama there that night aching to hold her child to breast and shower with kisses. Somehow, being painfully reminded that life is temporary, fleeting at best, does that to a mama. We love fiercely. We can't not love fiercely. Sure, the umbilical cord is cut at birth, but there's a binding far stronger than that cord that can never be severed. I know. I saw a mama fiercely bound tight to her babe even in death. And, I am now a stronger, better mama for having heard her story.