Tonight, I found myself looking through old photo albums of when my boys were just babies at ages 1, 3 and 5 years. I don’t know what it was, but I became overwhelmed with sadness and began crying, you know the kind of cry, when you don’t look so pretty and tissues aren’t enough.
I feel cheated tonight. Those photos brought back so many precious memories. Back then my son didn’t struggle with any mental disorders, he was a young kiddo exploring the world, maybe a little strong willed, but a sweet boy untouched by the pain he’s suffered today. There’s a look of hope and optimism in his eyes that every child should have. As I look at photos of his younger brothers, there’s so much innocence. I feel like we lost something that was suppose to be ours.
Looking at these images I can feel my old self again. I remember the feelings I had as a young mom, my hopes of where we were headed and the dreams I had anticpated. I had no idea that I was going to experience so much pain in motherhood. I never imagined that I would see my children suffer so much. I know life never turns out like you think it will and we’re never prepared for what lays ahead. I also realize that others have suffered so much more, but I wish I could whisper into the ears of my past and tell that young mom in those photos to suck up every moment of joy. To drink it all in and cherish every giggle, smile and sweet moment because my boys will grow up so fast and it will be much harder than I ever imagined. Today, I wish I can look at my boys without the painful memories of what we’ve experienced, I wish I can erase all the hurt my boys have felt and feel that sweet joy I once had as a young mother, just one more day, I want that feeling of hope back.
As painful as these photos are, they’re a good reminder of how time is passing by. I don’t have time to waste, I need to grab all the joy in each day I have. In fact, I’m dying to wake my boys up and give them hugs and kisses (don’t worry, I’ll let them sleep), but I’m looking forward to tomorrow, because right now I’m screaming at myself to embrace a little of what my “old self” had, that sweet optimism that everything is going to be more than alright.
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I’m a mother of 3 young boys, the oldest suffering from Bipolar 1 Disorder. I write a blog to let go of my pain and to help support others by letting them know they’re not alone.
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