I'm surprised it hurts so much. To be without my girls. I mean, I'm not surprised because a mother's true love is not without some foresight, wisdom, realization. I just mean that with the way I came into motherhood as a naive, young flit "coping" with it and then how I've changed my method and moral to choosing to be a mother, the pain of this just stings so much more than all of the sting I had anticipated.
I'm not as surprised to be missing their voices, their laughter, their hugs, the smell of their hair, the sandwich cuddles---I knew that I would. It's just that the reality becoming real stings more than I could have ever prepared for.
So how do I dare cry about this when the choice to leave the way I did was mine? Sure I took them with me for the first part--so they would never have the pain of seeing their mother leave, but what did that prove? It seems like it would almost be nothing at the current juncture.
But I tell you what. I'm holding onto something higher than myself to get us through this two-year period.
