SiriuslyAnArtist

In Grief we shift tectonically, the plates of our hearts moving, grinding, a lava flow of emotion rising up to fill the gaps. In grief we shift tectonically, mountains rising, valleys deepening as we struggle to understand how to live without the dead, and the way they livened up our lives and chased away our darkness. In grief we shift tectonically, the earth shifting under our feet, making us feel unsteady, unprepared for loss.

I am Scared. I am scared that we won’t have enough, that I won’t be good enough, that we won’t succeed in raising our daughter as good parents. Anxieties fill my mind. I worry that I will fail my little girl, that I will fail her as my parents failed me. I worry that the cycle, the broken, traumatic cycle will continue. My foster mom, my foster dad, and all of my loved ones all tell me that I will be a good mom. They say that the fact that I am even worrying is a good sign of already being a good mom. But how do they know that to be true? I know that I will do anything for my little girl. Yet fear, and anxiety fill me. I try to relax because all of this stress isn’t good for her while she is still cradled within my womb. So I take a deep breath and remember what my foster mom always tells me: Everything will be okay.