I see you.
I see your heart-ache….
…the good ache from all the love that you hold.
…the bad ache from all the guilt that you carry.
I see your tears of joy.
I see your tears of pain.
I see your smile, tired but sweet.
I see your tired eyes and wrinkles.
I see your gentle, maybe calloused hands.
I see the mothers sitting alone in the waiting room waiting to hear the heartbeat.
I see the mothers sitting alone in the waiting room knowing there will be no heartbeat.
I see the first-time mother in the hospital, learning her life has changed forever.
I see the last-time mother, nursing her child, knowing it is her last.
I see the mothers laying on the operating table, wishing that labor had gone different.
I see the mothers smiling because the face of the child washes away the labor pains.
I see the mothers who weep quiet tears of babies gone and never known.
I see the mothers who gently sob for children gone too soon and never forgotten.
I see mothers who carried, loved, and then gave away this gift of life.
I see mothers who cried, waited, and then took in that life that was a gift.
I see a mother who is an aunt, a cousin, a grandmother.
I see a mother who is a friend, a neighbor, or co-worker.
I see mothers whose arms are waiting.
I see mothers whose hearts are wishing.
I see the daughters weeping for their mothers.
The mother that was never there.
The mother that was gone too soon.
The mother who will forever be missed.