Capture Your Grief Day 4: Belonging

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There are a million things I could write about pertaining to where I don't belong. I feel like, as we grow up, there are constantly new places we don't belong in, new groups of people we don't belong to, and just a general sense of wanting to belong that we are never able to satisfy. There is this new group I have become a part of, one that I very much belong to, that has, at the same time, made me unable to belong to a different group. The latter group, of course, is traditional motherhood.

I could write for hours about the ways I don't belong to traditional motherhood, but that's not what this post is about. This post is about where I do belong. And that place, the one specific place to which I have no doubt that I belong, is mine and Brandon's little family. People can try to deny it, or try to take it away from me, but these are the things I know for sure:

  1. I am a wife
  2. I am a mother
  3. I have been married for six years to the most wonderful guy
  4. I became a mom after five years of marriage
  5. I am a mother to Carter McKay Robbins
  6. I am a mother to Lucy Bean Robbins
  7. I am also a dang good cat mom
  8. I am a mother in the least traditional way possible, but I am still a mother

When the days get hard (and boy do they ever) the places I belong are the places that make the days a little easier. Our home, the nursery, our babies' graveside, Brandon's arms, in bed with the cats. This past year has brought about a strong sense of isolation in many regards, but the one true place, the one group of people I belong to the most, is my sweet little family. I would rather belong to them than anywhere or anyone else in the world.

 
 

 

PS. Belong is a weird word if you type it enough times.